Inheritance (The Morganian Masters, book 3)
by Nancynhac
Summary: Final book of the trilogy, in which our heroes have traveled to another time and place. Here, Dave must choose the Merlinian philosophy of "Do the right thing, no matter what it costs," or the Morganian one of "You decide what's right." Now that it's personal, the choice isn't quite so easy.
1. Coming and going

"There." Two men paused at the crest of a wooded hill in the warm glow of a fine Autumn sunset. Behind them, running along the base of the hill, a hard-packed dirt road threaded its way through the English countryside, a gleaming black Morris Oxford parked on the nearer berm. Ahead, a short distance below where the observers stood, the trees gave way to a small clearing, in which stood a rough-hewn stone structure no bigger than a shed. Through its gaping windows came a glow as warm as that of the setting sun. Here, in this peaceful haven, was the one they had come to retrieve. It was time to go home.

The older of the pair lowered his hand, his ring pulsing a deep red as its objective was fulfilled. The ring would find the one who waited in the shrine, always, no matter the distance or the years since he'd last been seen. It was a bond forged from the power of love beyond death, a power now shared by the master's younger companion, his inheritance from his ancestor Merlin.

Dave glanced across at his fellow seeker, who simply stared unmoving at their destination only a few yards down the slope. "Well?" he asked. "Aren't we going to go get him?"

Alvar's face was troubled, as if remembering things he would just as soon forget. "You go ahead," he urged. "I'll wait back at the car." He turned then and left his friend to finish their errand alone.

Dave watched him go for a minute, curious but knowing better than to press for answers just then. He shook his head; Alvar would tell him when and if he chose to. For now, he had more pressing matters at hand. With a sigh, Dave turned back and trudged down the slope to the little stone building in the clearing.

He opened the door without touching it, noiselessly, so as not to disturb the shrine's occupant. He needn't have bothered.

Inside, a stone ledge served as a bench under one window, facing the window directly across the room. Between them, an earthen floor lay half-buried under fallen leaves, some from this year and some from seasons past. Opposite the door, a deep niche in the wall held a simple marble crucifix flanked by thick white candles in iron sconces. The candles were the source of the glow seen from outside. Their light pushed back against the deepening shadows of the dying sunlight streaming through the western window.

In the middle of the floor, resting on his haunches with hands lying lightly atop his thighs, a man sat still with face upturned to the carving in the niche. His hair, bright as burnished gold where it met the light, quickly turned a darker reddish-brown as the shadows took control. His long leather coat blended its earthy scent with the ground and the stone and the dripping candle tallow. He seemed to belong there, as if he'd been here in this spot for as long as the shrine had existed.

"Hello, Dave," the man said without moving.

"Hey," answered the new arrival. "How are you doing? You okay?"

"Yes," his master replied, and Dave heard the smile in his voice. He relaxed a bit; he'd been hoping he wouldn't have to deal with anything too emotional. He waited, for surely his purpose in coming was obvious.

After a long silence, though, he wasn't quite so sure. He cleared his throat. "Um, it's getting late," he pointed out. "What are you doing here, anyway? Didn't you get enough church this morning when you went with Veronica?" As no response was forthcoming, he tried again. "We should be getting back now, okay? Master Alvar's waiting for us in the car."

Then and only then did Balthazar turn from the object of his study. His blue eyes, when they locked on his apprentice, were sad. "It's hard for him," he said, referring to his own master, "being here in this clearing. He did what he thought he had to do, but he's never forgiven himself for doing it."

"Yeah." Dave stared at the floor. Balthazar had very nearly died here, at the hand of his beloved master Alvar. Both of their lives had changed that day; ultimately for the better, but not without price. Apparently, Alvar hadn't yet finished paying it.

The shrine hadn't been here then. From the corner of his eye, Dave caught movement, and looked up to see the older man reaching out to touch the wall of the little building.

"Some of these stones may have been the same ones we used for his cairn," noted Balthazar quietly.

Reflexively, Dave studied the rough blocks more closely. Now he noticed, etched at regular intervals throughout the interior, the words carved like epitaphs in tombstones. Not surprisingly, they were verses of Scripture urging the visitor to a life of humble repentance, loving service, and unwavering holiness. He chose one at random to read aloud:

"Mortify therefore your members which are upon the earth; fornication, uncleanness, inordinate affection, evil concupiscence, and covetousness, which is idolatry:

For which things' sake the wrath of God cometh on the children of disobedience.

'What's 'concupiscence'?" he asked.

"A fancy word for 'lust'."

"Oh." Dave sat on the bench, suddenly depressed. "You don't actually believe all that stuff, do you?" he asked hopefully.

"I have questions," Balthazar admitted. "I'm no theologian, but I have no reason to disbelieve things like what you just read. Passages like that are pretty consistent throughout the whole Bible. Yeah, I'd have to say God really means it."

"No, I mean about there even being a god to begin with." He leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling, the floor, at Balthazar, anything but the illuminated icon in its niche. "Man, I can't believe I'm even talking about this. Could we just get out of here, please? This place makes me nervous."

"Here's a citation that will make it even worse." The master sorcerer pointed to another inscribed stone. Dave considered ignoring it–Balthazar wasn't above tormenting his apprentice now and then–but the man sounded serious tonight. Dave read the marked stone to himself:

"He that overcometh shall inherit all things; and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.

But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death"

"Okay, that's it," declared the apprentice sorcerer, standing. "I'm outta here. If you don't come with me, right now, I'm sending Alvar back here to get you, whether he likes it or not." He moved to the open doorway and waited. "Well?" he prompted.

Balthazar twisted to face his young friend. "Give me a minute, all right?" he requested. "My legs have gone numb from sitting here for so long. I don't think I can stand up just yet."

"Oh, well, why didn't you say so?" Dave was embarrassed for not considering that possibility, and it came out in a tone more brusque than he'd intended. He lent a firm supporting arm so that the older man could rest on the bench until he was able to walk again. "So," he found himself asking despite himself, "do you really think we're all damned just because we're sorcerers? It's not something we chose, after all."

"We didn't choose the gift, true," replied his master, "but we did choose to use it. There are different interpretations of the word: a diviner or fortune-teller, someone who invokes evil spirits, or a user of potions to exert control over people. Broadly speaking, it does mean anyone who uses magic, no matter what his intentions, so yes, we're walking a dangerous line by continuing its practice."

"But we have to use it to fight the Morganians!"

"True enough. Your Tesla coil trick only worked because it wasn't expected. We can't depend on that again, or any non-magical means to fight the enemy. We don't have much choice in the matter."

Dave shook his head. "That's not fair, then, to condemn magic when it's used for good. We shouldn't be punished for doing the right thing."

"As I said, I have questions." Balthazar smiled, then rose slowly to his feet. "I think I'm good to go now."

Together, they started up the hill toward the crest, and the candles went out behind them. "It's probably a matter of where we put our trust," Balthazar continued. "Do we put our trust in ourselves, thinking our magic is all we need, or do we trust in the one who gave us that gift? With the Morganians, it's easy to see which side they've chosen. We Merlinians are murkier, but we have that same temptation. Too often, we make the same choice."

Dave said nothing, but he remembered. His master had told him, that first day they'd begun to train, "Magic can't be everything. It can't be all you are. Never forget that..." He understood that now, better than he had then, though the magic he wielded now was more powerful than any other sorcerer's on earth. The temptation for him might have been irresistible without the help of Balthazar and the others to keep him firmly grounded. No, he knew the first option wasn't a valid choice. The alternative, though... "I don't know," he admitted at last. "Isn't there a third way? I mean, I know there's more to life than magic, but God? Really? There's no proof that he even exists. Can't we just trust each other–you know, the good people–and our own morality? I don't need some invisible dude up in the sky somewhere to tell me the difference between right and wrong."

"'The good people', you say," his companion responded. "There are no good people; not me, not you, not even Becky or Veronica. We've all made mistakes. We're all evil to one degree or another, even if it never shows as anything worse than being selfish or arrogant, or unforgiving."

Dave frowned, a bit perturbed. "Okay, then, _relatively_ good. Nobody's perfect, but that's not the same as saying everyone is evil. At least I've never killed anyone...um, unless you count Morgana, but that was the whole point of training me in the first place."

They had reached the top of the hill by now, where they paused briefly to locate the waiting Oxford, a patch of black just a few shades darker than the night sky and the road. The car's roof was still folded back, but it wouldn't be many more weeks before the weather no longer afforded them that luxury.

Balthazar smiled again. "Master Alvar's probably asleep by now. Maybe you should drive."

* * *

The lights of the mansion were on when the travelers returned. Dave let his passengers out in the cobblestone courtyard before taking the vehicle around back to the garage. This was a rather large building, part of which was still used as the carriage house for which purpose it had been made. Beyond it, past a wide gravel path through the trees, lay the rest of the estate: the stables, a smokehouse and storage houses, the groundskeeper's cottage, and a chapel, along with a few other necessary outbuildings. Dave hadn't gone back there since his initial tour of the premises when they'd first moved in three months ago.

May 4, 1924, just after sunrise: that was when the group had landed on the beach of Cape May, New Jersey. A month later, seven of the eight had moved here to England, allowing the driver to retire peacefully to his ancestral home in Puerto Rico as he wished. The Masters Estate was home for the rest of them, at least for now. Once the adjacent property was developed, which should be done sometime before the end of the following year, the group would be split even further.

Dave smelled the enticing odors of roast beef and fresh-baked biscuits as soon as he walked through the front door. He followed the aroma through the parlor and into the dining room, where the rest of his household waited for him before sitting down to dinner.

Sorcerers they were, all of them but one. Becky was a beam of golden sunshine in the room, and it wasn't just her long flaxen hair that made her so. She was his delight, his reminder of who he had been and his encouragement to become so much more; a better man as well as a sorcerer. Of them all, she had given up the most to stay with him, and he was determined always to be the man she found worthy of her sacrifice. He gave her a quick kiss of thanks.

As the owner of the mansion, Alvar claimed his seat at the head of the table. He was a handsome man, if somewhat dark: black eyes, short black hair, with a trim black beard and mustache to match; and a darkness in his past which he still and always sought to overcome.

To his right was the newest addition to their team, the former Morganian Chandra Kolinsky, who also appeared to be the eldest. She was petite, dressed in simple but well-tailored attire, and aging gracefully as her brown hair faded into gray. For all of her nearly sixty-five years, she'd been set apart by the strong electric-disruption field that surrounded her like an invisible aura; not large, but virtually impenetrable. Only by traveling inside the mirror world could she ride in a motorized vehicle. She was content now in her retirement, and the simple pleasures remaining in her life, like dinner with a household full of friends. Dave sat on Chandra's other side at the table, and then Becky beyond him. To Alvar's left were Balthazar and his wife Veronica, and finally Horvath to complete the group of seven.

Well, eight, really. Veronica was just beginning to show evidence of the new life growing within her womb. The Blakes' first child was due within a month of Dave's own birthday. For this reason, the mansion had one room that had been fitted as a nursery, though there were no plans for other babes to use it except as guests.

"So how's the construction going?" asked Dave of nobody in particular when they had all filled their plates and begun to eat. "I haven't been over there all week–been too busy here."

"Not today," Alvar corrected him. "You could have checked it out today, if the two of you..." He nodded to include Becky, "hadn't decided to spend the day in town instead." The young couple started to look defensive until the senior sorcerer smiled. "I'm not criticizing," he added. "Chandra and I had a lovely restful day here by ourselves. I actually got to finish that medical journal I've been reading for the last month, before Horvath and Veronica got back."

Merlin's three apprentices had taken a carriage to survey Balthazar's recently purchased property, the grounds on which the legendary sorcerer's castle had once stood. Once the necessary legal work was finished and the architectural design approved by both owner and engineers, it hadn't taken long to begin the actual construction of a new, contemporary version of the castle.

Horvath took it upon himself to answer the question that had been posed. "At the moment, it's not much more than a hole in the ground," was his assessment. "I don't suppose the dungeons will be recreated..." He sounded almost wistful.

"No," confirmed Balthazar, to his peer's evident disappointment, "but we might install a guest room for you down there, with extra closet space for all those hats you bought."

"Very funny."

"I thought so."

"Anyway..." Horvath went on, "the cellars are dug and the foundation laid. If this goes as quickly as Fort Agatha did, we should have it done right on schedule. Then my fellow Morganians and I can have this mansion to ourselves."

Chandra corrected him. "_Ex_-Morganians, you mean."

"Whatever." They were all on the same team now, but that didn't mean they didn't have their differences, and their memories of past hostilities and wrongs. For Horvath especially, it would take some time to find his place within the group; a self-imposed struggle that his friends would be happy to resolve if only he allowed it. Balthazar had been an enemy and friend in turn–twice–and Horvath had grown weary of the fight. There was no reason for it anymore, since there was no victory to be had. The choice to remain a friend was a simple one; and, truth be told, a comforting one, though he would never admit that to Balthazar. Veronica was the harder issue. Much as Horvath still wanted her, he knew that she would never be his. She hadn't been happy with him, even when she'd acted as his faithful wife not so very long ago. She was happy with Balthazar. Slowly, her first suitor was coming to accept that, but it didn't make it easier to be here in the same house with her and the man she loved. Horvath still couldn't help but feel rejected. That was his struggle, and not even the Morganian discipline of emotional control could help him win this battle. Only time and patience, and the team's unwavering support, could hope to bring him peace.

He was making progress, certainly. When Balthazar had asked him to take Veronica home from the construction site so she could rest, Horvath eschewed his normal sardonic ways and behaved as a perfect gentleman. An observer might have concluded that the riders were either good friends or siblings; comfortable in each other's presence, but not romantically involved. That was how Veronica thought of them, as well.

Dave seemed a bit uneasy now. "Do you really want us to move out, Horvath?" he asked, but the query was directed at Alvar and Chandra, too. He hated to be an imposition on anyone, so he was quick to detect any suggestion of resentment.

Horvath shook his head. "My dear boy," he replied, trying to be patient, "you're welcome to stay as long as you like, provided you follow the rules of the house. You know the rules: we don't flaunt our magic in front of humans, we let our servants do the work they were hired to do, we let someone know when we take a car or carriage, and we keep our knowledge of the future to ourselves. We don't need to start tongues wagging about us in town." He didn't have to confirm his open invitation with the mansion's owner; Alvar's signature was on the papers, but Horvath was the one in charge of running the household.

"Yeah, I know the rules, but still..." Dave's uncertainty hadn't abated.

Chandra laid a comforting hand on his arm. "We're happy to have you here, Dave," she assured him with the warm note of sincerity, and Alvar nodded in agreement. "You, Becky, and our friends across the table." He wasn't convinced, even when she afforded him her most grandmotherly smile.

Balthazar looked almost amused. "You'll notice that Veronica and I aren't worrying about overstaying our welcome," he told his apprentice. "Relax, Dave. You worry too much."

"Yeah, you're one to talk," Dave shot back, but he did feel better now.

After dinner, Alvar had an announcement to make. "I've been thinking," he began over drinks. "Things are going smoothly here, which is wonderful, but I'm starting to miss being out on the road. It would be nice to go out into the world again, find out what's changed since my day. Are we the only sorcerers left? I know there must be more; Drake Stone's ancestors, if no one else."

Sorcerers had always been few, and Balthazar had been the only Merlinian left by the time he met young Dave Stutler in the year 2000. There were still some Morganians then, but not many. If there were other sorcerers in the world, they either didn't know their own gift or they chose to keep it secret.

"You want to scout again?" Balthazar asked somewhat reluctantly, just to make sure he understood his master's intention. "We just got settled in, and you want to leave us already?"

"I'm not leaving you," Alvar replied. "This is a short-term mission, only a few weeks or maybe a month. If I don't find anyone, I can always go back out later. This is my home now, and you're my family. Trust me, I'm not about to give that up, ever."

"And if you do find someone..."

Balthazar's master grinned at him. "Don't worry. Even if I do take another apprentice, you're still the first. You'll always be special to me." The grin broadened further when Balthazar suddenly found the glass in his hand too fascinating to ignore.

Dave, seeing his master's chagrin, couldn't help a smile of his own. He knew exactly how Balthazar felt. It was the same way he felt when he thought about the child who would, in a few short months, be demanding his father's attention. He was happy for his friends, and he looked forward to the new baby almost as much as they did, but there was still a twinge of jealousy...just a little bit.

Veronica had a different concern. "But Alvar, what about the baby? What if I need you here?"

Alvar was the attending physician for all of them, but his primary focus for the time being was the pregnant woman and her first child. As an older woman, she faced difficulties that someone of Becky's age would not. Her concern was well-founded. Now it was Alvar's turn to look uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and took the opportunity to focus on draining his goblet before venturing to respond. "I'll keep in touch," he assured her when he finished. "We'll talk every night, either by telephone or by magic, like I used to do with Morgana. If there's a problem, just let me know and I'll come right back. I don't plan to leave the island."

The answer was far from satisfactory, and they all knew it. However, the pregnancy had so far been uneventful, or at least not unusual. There was no real reason to keep a physician at hand. Veronica was clearly not happy, but she allowed his answer to suffice.

Alvar broke the uneasy silence that followed. "Ahem, well, it would probably be best to get started soon, either tomorrow or Tuesday. I'd prefer one of the carriages, but I think a car may be better to get to more villages in the time allotted. Um, I wouldn't mind company, either, if anyone's interested."

Chandra shrugged. "I'd go with you, Alvar, but I'm afraid I wouldn't be very good company inside a mirror. I'm more of a homebody, anyway."

To their surprise, it was Horvath who volunteered. "I'll go," he declared, "if that's all right with you, Alvar."

Wide-eyed, the older man sat back in his chair. He agreed to the request immediately, if a bit hesitantly. "Certainly, if you're sure..."

"I'm sure." He saw no need to explain, and nobody else dared to ask.

"All right then," Chandra concluded. "I'll be the head of the Masters Estate while you two are gone. You boys be good, and don't forget to call."


	2. Hide and seek

"So here we are," Horvath commented, steering the Oxford from the courtyard to the empty dirt road beyond. "Have you any idea where you want to start looking?"

His passenger didn't look at him. "Not really," he confessed. "We just keep our eyes and ears open for any news of people with unusual talent. We could start by going west, I suppose, through Wales, since we're nearly at the border now."

Horvath nodded. "This reminds me of when Balthazar and I were searching for the Prime Merlinian, before..." He fell silent.

Alvar seemed wistful. "I wish I remembered that time. I hear about the things that happened at the castle while I was there, but it's as if they happened to some other person entirely. All those years, I had friends but didn't even know it."

"And I had friends but didn't appreciate it," Horvath countered with a shrug "Which is worse?"

They drove without speaking for some time after that. The two men were more alike than either of them cared to admit, but that also meant that speech was sometimes unnecessary. This trip would be a time of both testing and fellowship. Alvar welcomed the challenge.

"I'm glad to get away for a while," he told the driver. "Not that I don't like being around the others, you understand, but I was starting to feel a little cooped up."

Horvath caught the tone of the comment, and knew he was being interrogated. "You want to know why I came with you, is that it?" It wasn't a question. "I never was one to seek out a quiet life. I like adventure, that's all, and this seemed like a good opportunity to find it."

"Uh-huh." Alvar wasn't convinced; but then, he hadn't told his companion his own true reason for traveling, either.

They continued on their way into the west.

* * *

Britain was far more populous than the land had been in Merlin's time. Whereas Alvar and his horse-drawn wagon had traveled for days between villages, the time now in the automobile was reduced to hours. The physician's method of scouting was still effective, however; he provided medical care at every stop, in exchange for whatever the patient was willing to pay, plus whatever information he and his fellow citizens could give that might be of interest. Horvath, for his part, was generous with his gold in the shops and pubs of town, encouraging gossip in the hope of discovering anything worthwhile.

Before they left, one of the pair would be sure to conjure a large fireball that he sent to hover just above the rooftops until they climbed into the car. They were especially vigilant to look for any expressions of alarm or recognition that might indicate a witness to the spectacle. No human could see manifestations of sorcerer power until they interacted with something in the physical world. A hovering fireball would be invisible to him; a burning rooftop would not. The sorcerers were disappointed, but not surprised, when town after town proved devoid of magical inhabitants.

They reached the western coast, then turned to follow the shoreline down to Cornwall. It was a slow, painstaking process, and the time to return came upon them before they were anywhere near completion.

"This is more exhausting than I anticipated," Alvar had to admit when they turned the Oxford toward home. It was his turn to drive, but he wasn't as good at it as was his partner, who'd learned the skill using vehicles like this one.

"I should think you'd be used to it by now," Horvath taunted, smug in his own ability. "You've grown soft, driving those fancy motor homes with their power brakes and steering, their fuel injection and automatic transmissions, and all the other toys that haven't been invented yet."

The driver shot him a quick glare, then turned his eyes back to the road. "I wasn't talking about the car," he chided. "I meant our mission. It's a lot easier to find one person among fifty than one among a thousand. I just hope we didn't miss him somewhere along the way."

Horvath shrugged. "If this person even exists–and we have no evidence to say that he does–I sincerely doubt that he was in any of the places we visited. He would have known immediately who, or rather what, we are, and contacted us to find out what we wanted."

"Unless he just doesn't want to get involved with anyone," replied the other. "In which case, he may have simply waited for us to go away, keeping his talent hidden from us and everyone else."

"In which case," Horvath countered, "it wouldn't matter if he was there or not. He may as well not exist. Don't worry about it, all right? We're looking for someone to join us, aren't we? Your hypothetical hider is a virtual nonentity. Forget about him."

Alvar sighed. "You're right, Horvath," he conceded. "Well, we've made a start, at least. We'll spend a week or two at home, then come back here and continue where we left off." He glanced aside then. "If you want to come with me again, that is. Eventually, I want to have checked the entire island."

"You really don't want to stay at the mansion, do you?"

Alvar didn't answer, but instead turned the question around. "Do you?"

Slowly, his fellow traveler responded, "No...not yet, anyway. Eventually, but not now."

"Me too."

They let it go at that.

* * *

They made their way counterclockwise around Great Britain. London merited an entire week in order to account for the many visitors, not just from surrounding counties, but from all over the world. Horvath enjoyed himself immensely in the big city, taking in as many cultural events as he could attend, much to his partner's annoyance.

"We're supposed to be working," Alvar reminded him. "This isn't a vacation."

Horvath waved him off. "Yes, yes, I know. I am doing my job, though, just so you know. Have you any idea how many people gather at these places, Alvar? I'm there with a blue ball over my head the entire time; if anyone else could see it, I would know."

The older man scowled at him, but let the argument stand. As an elite, Horvath could maintain a plasma ball far longer than could an ordinary sorcerer. This was simply a way for him to show off his superiority.

The trips had to be kept shorter as Veronica's time grew nearer. They were down to one week when the travelers finally heard news with real promise.

Alvar finished setting the old man's broken leg, smiling as the Scot thanked him again. "Ach, ye're a Godsend, ye are," the man averred. "This leg o' mine shoulda been fixed a long time ago, but I dinna hae the money to pay a doctor, nor to hire someone to take me to the priestess, not that I could get to her anyhow now, bein' Winter an' all. I ain't got no family, ya know. Nobody cares about ol' Barney in this town."

The physician pushed his patient gently back on the bed. "You just rest now, Barney," he instructed. "You're going to be fine. Who's this priestess you mentioned?"

"Ah, the priestess..." The man closed his eyes while he gathered his thoughts. "Not sure what to make o' her, really," he said at last. "She seems a nice enou' lass, for sure, but kinda standoffish, if ya know what I mean. Lives up in the woods wi' her sister and little Ben. Ya can't get there in a car or anything else wi' wheels; gotta go on foot or horseback. Wouldna go there now on anything–too easy to fall and break yer neck on that trail. Makes it hard for folks like me, ya know?"

"All right, but why would folks want to visit her anyway?"

"Ach, that's right, ye dinna know. Right, right, I forget that foreigners haen't heard." Barney touched his wounded leg gingerly. "She coulda fixed this right up. I coulda walked home from her place, if only I could get to it."

Alvar felt a stirring of excitement. A healer, here in the hills of Scotland? He had to know more. "Why do you call her a priestess?" he asked.

The old man grinned. "She ain't really a priestess, ya know. We jus' call her that 'cause she makes ya pray with her 'fore she'll do any healin'. That's true even if yer takin' an animal for her to cure. She says it's a gift from God hisself, her bein' able to do what she does. And hey, who are we to argue, right?"

"Right," Alvar absently concurred. "Tell me, Barney, where can I find this woman? I'd very much like to meet her."

As he left the man's humble shack, the visitor laid a pouch full of gold coins on the kitchen table, along with a note of thanks. Barney had paid off his medical debt many times over; he deserved a Christmas gift worth remembering.

* * *

"I don't believe it," Horvath decided. "There hasn't been a healer since Morgana. The man is delusional."

"No healer that we know about," his fellow rider amended. They had rented a pair of mules–against the owner's better judgment, but five times his normal fee persuaded him otherwise-to make the trip to the priestess' chalet, tucked away high up among the wooded hills. Barney had been right; no vehicle could have managed the climb.

Horvath wasn't ready to concede the point. "I've been the head Morganian for the last twelve centuries, almost. Don't you think I would have heard about anyone with that ability? Everyone knows how valuable it is."

"Which may be one reason this woman chose to seclude herself." Alvar met his companion's eyes until Horvath looked away. He smiled, his point won. Not all sorcerers were willing to be recruited on either side of the age-old war. They had no choice in the matter–the Morganians saw to that-unless they escaped detection altogether.

The head Morganian had the last word. "Well, we'll soon see, won't we? If she really is a healer, she's not going to stay secluded much longer. That's a promise."

* * *

After the rocky, often treacherous path the travelers had just ascended, the sight of the snowy meadow seemed like Paradise. It was larger than one might have expected, hidden as it was on all sides by thick stands of pine that dropped away on one side but continued their march up the mountain on the other. Everything was gray and brown and white, even in the full light of the early afternoon sun, here on the windswept field only partially sheltered in the lee of the crag above.

Within that lee was the chalet. It stood like a beacon at the far side of the meadow, a curl of smoke rising from the chimney half-hidden under snow. The mules headed toward it without need of direction from their riders.

As they approached, the men noted with surprise that the building, too, was bigger than expected. Not only did it boast a full second story, but a mazot and small barn in the back, as well. The snow had been cleared away from sloping cellar doors at the side of the house, beside which a large pile of firewood waited for use under its protective tarp. A nearby wooden fence outlined what would, in a few months, be a garden. The home's inhabitants were isolated, self-sufficient, and obviously prepared to comfortably get through the winter.

They weren't prepared for visitors, though. The girl who opened the door looked curious, but more than that, annoyed at the interruption to her day. "Hullo then, lads," she greeted. "You must have been desperate to make the trip up here now. Well, come in, then." As they entered a foyer with a bench along one wall, she looked them over appraisingly. "You don't seem to be sick or hurt, either one o' you," she observed. "Is it your animals?" A quick trip outside assured her that the mules were fine. When she came back in, she was more annoyed than ever. "Now what's this all aboot?" she demanded. "Never mind; I don't really care." With that, she called into the room beyond the vestibule: "Maggie! Two of 'em! With rides!" Turning back to her guests, she instructed, "Wait here. Sit if you want. My sister will be with you in a sec." Then she left them there alone.

Alvar and Horvath stared at each other, a little stunned. "Well," Alvar managed at last, "the old Scot did say the priestess was a bit standoffish. I suppose we shouldn't be surprised that her sister is the same way." He shrugged, then sat down on the bench. Horvath remained standing.

Maggie kept them waiting somewhat longer than a sec, but not unduly so. When she appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands dry on the kitchen apron she wore, both men stood and tipped their hats to the lady. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she said. "Please excuse Renee's bad manners, and mine for leaving you out here so long. We're not used to people coming up here in the middle of Winter. Now, what can I do for you?"

Even in those first few moments, Alvar was struck by the difference between the two sisters. Yes, they shared certain features–the shapes of nose and eyebrow, the vivid green eyes and commanding presence–but the similarities ended there. Whereas Maggie wore her auburn hair tied back in a silver net, Renee had chosen to cut short her dark brown curls in the fashion of the time. Maggie's curves were hidden under modest, matronly attire, but her younger sister showed off her lithe figure beneath a form-fitting burgundy dress and gold bangle bracelets. It would be worse in the summer, Alvar couldn't help thinking, when the girl would be expecting more company, including potential suitors.

For now, though, the elder sibling was waiting for his answer. He obliged. "Pardon the intrusion, ma'am, but we're here on a mission. We're looking for people who are...different. You see, we're part of a very small group of such people, and we want to find more who are like us."

"Different in what way?" Maggie was cautious, testing.

Alvar nodded to his partner, who gave a simple demonstration. Horvath lifted a hand, palm upward, and a tongue of fire leapt forth to dance a few inches above it.

The woman gasped.

The men exchanged slow smiles. They had found a fellow sorcerer.

* * *

"No." Maggie was adamant. "I am not a sorcerer."

They were gathered in the living room now: the guests, their hostesses, and Maggie's four-year-old son Benjamin. Darkness came early this time of year, this close to the Arctic Circle. As the path down the mountain was treacherous enough even in full light, Maggie thought it best to have her visitors spend the night there at the chalet before sending them away in the morning. The mules were already settled in the barn out back, company for the two Highland ponies and the single Ayrshire cow which lived there, and a pair of beds had been hastily prepared for the men in a room upstairs. Much of the floor space here where the five sat before a cheery, blazing hearth was taken up by a thick brown rug with claws. The bear's head was missing.

Horvath arched an eyebrow at the unofficial priestess. "Then how did you kill that thing?" he wanted to know, nodding to indicate the decor. A strong enough plasma bolt could easily account for its beheading.

"With a hunting rifle, of course," she riposted. Wasn't it obvious?

"But there haven't been any bears in Scotland since the Middle Ages."

"Well," she sighed, "if you must know..." She glanced at her son, who lay sprawled on the bearskin rug, on his belly with his chin resting atop his folded arms, trying his best to stay awake but finding it increasingly difficult. Warm brown eyes under long lashes drew ever nearer shut, while the fire's warmth found counterpart in red undertones in the mop of the boy's dark hair. His mother continued her narration. "I was pregnant with Ben at the time. My husband and I were on a hunting expedition in Sweden, along with two other couples. Paul always did enjoy such things. We wives were there mainly for support; the men did all the actual shooting."

Maggie paused, remembering. "You've probably guessed already what happened. Somebody–I don't know which hunter–shot at this big fellow on the floor. Unfortunately, it only wounded him. He attacked the closest man...my husband. We ladies were back at the lodge, so we only heard about it afterwards. If only I'd been there, I might have saved him." The pain was still there in her voice, though her expression never changed.

After a moment, she went on. "I went back to the spot where my husband fell. The other men and I followed the bear's trail until we found the beast. It wasn't hard. He was hurt and bleeding; he wasn't thinking about hiding when he ran. I used Paul's rifle to put him out of his misery."

"You blew its brains out?" Horvath found himself starting to respect the widow.

"Yes." She added then, "I suppose I could have had a taxidermist repair the damage so the rug would be complete. It would have been sweet revenge to gloat over my husband's killer. But, I had my son to consider. I don't want him growing up with that...that thing's dead eyes staring at him, those big teeth snarling at him. The poor lad would be getting nightmares every time he tried to sleep." She smiled. "Speaking of sleep..."

Benjamin was out, totally. His mother rose from her chair. Smoothly, she lifted her child into her arms and made her way to the doorway nearest the steps. "I'll be back down in a bit," she informed the others, quietly so as not to wake the boy. "Renee, if you'll kindly tend to our guests, I'd appreciate it. And please, mind your manners!" Then she was gone.

Renee waited until her sister reached the top of the staircase before she uncurled herself from the divan on which she sat. She leaned forward now, the interest intent on her face. "So tell me, lads," she purred. "What is this sorcerer business you're on aboot? Show me."

There was something feral about her manner, like a panther stalking its prey, and it made Alvar rather uneasy. He met his partner's eyes; did Horvath feel it, too? The other man gave away nothing. Alvar sat back and let his companion do the talking.

"Why?" asked Horvath of the girl. "Do you think you may be one of us, too?"

"Perhaps."

He tested her in the same way as he had her sister, with one slight alteration. "What do you see?"

She smiled. "There's nothing above your hand, but you have a pretty ball over your noggin."

"Yes. Very good." He lowered his hand, and the blue ball disappeared.

"So I'm a sorcerer too, am I?"

"Apparently, but your sister claims that she's not."

Renee rolled her eyes. "Ach, that Maggie. She won't accept anythin' but what a preacher man says, or what she reads in that book o' hers. She needs to get back to the real world, she does. We've been stuck up in this godforsaken wilderness much too long." A look of sudden guilt crossed her face. "Um, don't tell her I said that, awright? She can be very literal sometimes."

Alvar fidgeted; the time for his nightly check-in was drawing near. "Have you a telephone?" he asked doubtfully.

She studied him as if he were an exotic species of bug. "You can't be serious," she replied.

"That's what I thought." He swallowed, nervous for some reason he couldn't name. "You asked us to show you some magic. I need to contact my people at home, and it's going to require concentration. If you'd like to witness it, you'll need to be in physical contact with either Horvath or me."

The girl nodded, wide-eyed with anticipation. "Yes, thank 'ee, I'd love to see it." She slid off the couch and stood between the visitors in one seamless motion.

Reluctantly, the physician took her hand. The three sorcerers sat together in a circle before the fire, hands joined and eyes closed as Alvar led them into another realm.


	3. Sibling rivalry

They met at a doorway between the two rooms, ghostly sorcerers within phantom environs. This was the realm of Astral Projection, where images reflected the reality of those who took part. It was as if no more than a clouded pane of glass separated one party from the other; a more thorough, if more demanding means of communication than a simple telephone. This was a meeting of the minds.

The sorcerers greeted one another from chalet and estate. Warm welcome gave way to curious surprise.

"You've found someone," Balthazar observed. "Good evening, Miss..." He waited.

She supplied the answer. "Renee Stewart. This is incredible. I can't believe I'm talking to people like this." She took in the parlor behind him and his two companions. "Is it real?"

Horvath explained her amazement. "She just found out what she is, Balthazar. She doesn't even have a ring yet." He frowned. "Where's Veronica?" Dave and Chandra were there, but the other usual participant was absent.

"Resting." Veronica's husband sounded, and looked, a little worried. "She's been doing that a lot lately. She didn't even feel up to the meeting tonight–another headache. Becky's with her now."

Alvar nodded. He'd noticed his patient's discomfort, growing along with her belly. There hadn't been anything specific, though, to cause immediate concern. For now, bed rest and frequent lower back massages were the best treatment he could prescribe, along with a diet appropriate for her condition. "Is there anything I should know?" he asked. "Do you need me to get back there sooner?"

"I wish you would. I know she's not telling me everything."

"All right. We'll start back tomorrow."

That settled, the subject returned to the newfound sorcerer who had joined them in this spectral world. Quickly, they went through the introduction process, informing those at the estate of Renee's older sister as well.

Chandra asked what all of them were thinking: "Will you be coming here, then, Renee? We've plenty of room for you both, and the boy, too, of course."

"I'd _love_ to," the girl answered, and the others smiled at her enthusiasm. Her face fell then. "But I dinna think Maggie wants to leave here. She won't want me to leave, either."

A sudden light blinded the group, and a loud ripping sound ended the conversation. When they could see and hear again, Alvar and Horvath broke the circle to discover the source of the interruption. Renee just sat stunned where she was.

"What's going on here?" demanded the owner of the chalet. Maggie stood just inside the door, hands on hips and a scowl under angry green eyes. "I'll not have witchcraft in this house, understand? That's the work o' the devil."

"It's not witchcraft!" her sister protested, hastily climbing to her feet. "We were talking to their friends, that's all. We weren't consorting with demons."

"And how, pray tell, do you know that?" She rounded on her visitors next. "Gentlemen, I'll thank ye to keep your sorceries to yourselves. My sister is young and impressionable, prone to follow all sorts of strange and dangerous paths. There's a reason we moved out here, you know."

Horvath, on the defensive, retorted, "We weren't doing anything dangerous. You're being unfair. Just because you don't understand something, that doesn't make it evil."

"You repay my hospitality with rudeness?" Maggie was highly offended, it was clear.

Alvar strove to make amends. "Your pardon, please, madam," he soothed. They couldn't afford to get themselves thrown out tonight. "I'm a physician, you see. My daughter-in-law is in her seventh month of pregnancy, and I need to check in daily to make sure she's all right. It's her first child."

"You're a doctor? I didn't know." Their hostess softened her stance. "Well...I suppose I'll let it go, then, just this once." Then she grew firm again. "But don't involve Renee in it anymore. She has an unhealthy fascination with the occult." She glared at her younger sibling. "It's that book. I keep telling you to get rid of it, but you refuse to listen."

Renee glared back. "It's a family heirloom, Maggie. You know that. Besides, what harm can it do? I canna even get to it, much less read it."

"The title alone is bad enough."

The men listened, fascinated, to the argument. "What book?" asked Horvath. "May we see it?"

Renee shrugged. "You can see it if ye want to, but it'll do you no good. It's stuck inside a case, so ye canna open the thing."

"I'd rather they didn't see it at all," said Maggie.

Her sister was defiant. "It's mine. You said you dinna want it, so it's mine. I can show it to whoever I want."

Maggie shook her head wearily. "I'm tired of fighting with you about this, Renee. Go ahead, then, if you must. Let's get this out in the open and be done with it." She sank heavily into her favorite chair and stared at the flames on the hearth.

The men waited silently for the younger woman to return from her trip upstairs. Alvar gazed across the room at the widow in her chair. She seemed defeated, and he couldn't help feeling a stab of pity for her. If she really was a healer, in addition to the sorcerer power she refused to accept in herself, she would be under unceasing pressure from the outside world to serve their needs even at the expense of her own. Her isolation was her only escape from that pressure; an escape, and her way of protecting her family from the world. He wished he could simply leave her be come tomorrow.

However, that was no longer an option; hadn't been since they'd first discovered her gift. If nothing else, Renee would never be content to stay hidden. The girl was restless enough already. Now that she knew magic was real, she would seek out whatever avenues she could to develop it. It was safer for everyone that she, and her sister, be taught how to properly use their power. It was safer; and, it was destiny. Wherever the gift had come from, whatever its source, it wasn't given at random. From his own life experiences, and the many centuries of his companion's life, he knew that without a doubt. There was a reason that the sisters had the gift, and a reason that the travelers had found them.

Renee came back laden with her burden. In her arms was a large tome encased in a clear shell that may or may not have been glass. She set it down on the rug, where the two men converged to examine it. They stared, disbelieving, at the ancient book. It wasn't an Encantus as they had expected. Instead, the title was one even older, written in a hand they both recognized. Before them lay Morgana's original Book of Incantations.

* * *

Alvar couldn't look away. Slowly, he laid one trembling hand atop the last relic of his master, tracing over the letters of the name. "I never saw the first one before," he admitted, almost to himself. "She gave it to her son Mordred before she even built the compound. We all got copies, but she never wrote any more herself. This is...incredible."

Horvath was more practical. He queried the women directly, "How did you get this?" They couldn't tell if he was pleased or not: he kept both voice and expression neutral.

Maggie's expression, however, was far from neutral. She showed nothing short of loathing for a book that most Morganians would kill to have in their possession, just on the chance that some of their founder's power might still infuse the object. "It's been in our family practically forever," she told the questioner. "I'd swear the thing is cursed, if I were one to swear."

"How is that?"

She grimaced. "It latches on to one of us, someone in the household–I think whoever is most sensitive to the spirit world–and makes itself dear to that one until it finds a new keeper. Then the old one becomes disposable." She lowered her voice as if trying to keep the book from hearing. "I think it's responsible for our parents' death. They'd been out on the loch a hundred times, no problem. Then Da lets my sister see the book, and the next day they're dead. Freak storm, people say. I dinna believe it. That thing made their boat come apart, I know it did."

"You talk about it like it's alive," Horvath noted.

"Well...maybe not the book itself, but it has some power attached to it. Demonic power, I've no doubt. It's protected inside that case, or I'd burn it in a minute."

"No!" her sibling objected. "It's mine! Don't you touch my book, Maggie!"

The older woman smiled grimly. "There, d'ye see what I mean about latching on?"

"I wonder..."

Horvath and the ladies turned to Alvar. His words were quiet but full of unspoken intent. "What do you wonder?" Horvath asked.

The other man met his eyes. "I wonder if we can release it." He was hesitant, as if he were asking permission.

Renee, the owner, readily gave it. "Please, do try, sir. I would so love to see what's inside." Maggie looked away, but Horvath gave a nearly indiscernible nod. "Be careful, though," he warned. "We don't want the sudden exposure to air to damage it after all these years of being sealed." Despite their hostess' antipathy toward the book, it was still a treasure from antiquity, all but priceless even for a non-sorcerer. It wouldn't do for them to lose it.

Alvar's ring glowed a deep red as he spread his hand over the case. He pressed down on the surface, and a slight ripple could be seen coming from beneath his fingers. The glass shimmered. It thinned where the sorcerer touched it, allowing his hand to sink a little closer to the treasure locked inside. He pressed harder. Warmth radiated from the imprint of his hand, visible as rising waves of air like those above the nearby fire. Alvar winced; the heat was beginning to burn, and the case wasn't yielding any more.

Finally, he had to stop. With a sigh, he sat back and looked up apologetically at Renee. "I'm sorry," he told her. "I can't break through."

She wasn't looking back at him, nor was anyone else. They were gazing instead at the glow that remained in the clear enclosure, not the shape of the hand which had just been touching it, but swirling instead into distinct and ordered lines, and then further into individual characters. A fiery message revealed itself suspended within the glass.

"What's it say?" Renee was unfamiliar with the language.

Horvath arched an eyebrow at her. "What, you don't read Ogham?" he asked rhetorically. She just looked baffled, and he smiled at his own superiority. Balthazar was the linguist of their group, but all three of Merlin's apprentices had to learn multiple languages in order to read their Encantuses. He read the message aloud:

"Greetings, scion of my line. Know that the treasure herein was given first to my only son Mordred for his use, and reclaimed upon learning of his death until our gift should be manifest again.. Only one of power equal to his may break the shield which I lay upon it. The book awaits the one worthy to receive it. Take it if you can: give of yourself and be recognized. The blood of Morgana runs true."

Maggie frowned. "Morgana? Mordred? Who are these people?"

A hush fell in the room. Finally, not trusting himself to respond, Alvar looked to his colleague. "Do you want to tell them?" he requested. He was astonished that the women didn't know, especially if what he suspected was true.

Horvath agreed with a nod. "Morgana was one of the most powerful sorcerers in history," he informed them. "Her son Mordred was killed in battle, but he apparently fathered children of his own before he died. Morgana built a school for sorcerer boys after she lost her son, maybe hoping the power would show up in one of her descendants. It sometimes skips generations." He fixed the widow with a professorial stare. "She was also the only genuine healer I've ever heard of."

It was a highly selective history, of course, but Alvar understood why it must be so, at least for now. If Maggie had been hostile before, a full recounting would make her all but unreachable for the purpose of their mission.

Horvath continued. "This Book of Incantations is meant for someone in her lineage, someone who has enough power to open it. Apparently, nobody that strong has yet been born."

Renee looked crestfallen. "Then I'll never get to read it," she lamented. "If even sorcerers canna open it, I haven't a snowball's chance, either."

Horvath, still smug from showing off his knowledge, felt it necessary to point out a further distinction. He cleared his throat. "Ahem." When he had the others' attention, he continued. "There are degrees of power even within our own ranks. Some sorcerers are stronger than others. Now, I've never met Mordred–that was before my time–but I suspect he may have been an elite, since my friend Alvar couldn't remove the shield. That would mean it requires another elite to get through." He paused for effect, then concluded, "I believe I qualify."

A somewhat annoyed Alvar commented wryly, "You're not even related, so no, you don't qualify."

"I have the power. The case responded to you, even though you couldn't break through. I think it's just there to keep non-sorcerers out...or ones who aren't elite." The barb was pointed, but effective.

Alvar glared. "You'd better be right, Horvath, or you're going to be eating your words. Go ahead, then. See if you have any better luck than I did." He backed away from the tome in its impervious case.

Horvath wasn't worried. Though it was possible that Mordred had been even more powerful than he, it wasn't likely, particularly since his gem-studded cane still had Drake Stone's original sorcerer ring to augment it. He laid the head of that cane directly over the glowing message, and the gems glowed blue in counterpoint.

It wasn't as easy as he'd hoped to make it look, but Horvath was, in the end, successful. The shield resisted for nearly a full minute before it crumbled suddenly into tiny shards, and the Book of Incantations lay exposed before its waiting audience. Horvath used his cane to brush away most of the shards, then his gloved hand for the rest. He gripped the cover to open it.

The book wouldn't open. "What the...?" He lifted it from the floor and tried again. Still, it was like trying to tear a block of wood in two. "Maybe it's been stuck in there so long, it fused together," Horvath guessed doubtfully. Books didn't fossilize, did they?

Now it was Alvar's turn to smile. "Give of yourself and be recognized," he quoted. "Obviously, Horvath, the book doesn't recognize you."

Maggie broke in. "Now _you_ talk like it's alive, Doctor." She was growing more uneasy with every turn of events. "Let's just leave it be, alright? We're likely to invoke a curse on ourselves if we open it, anyhow. It's bad enough that you took it out of its case."

"I'll take it," her sister declared. "It's mine." She retrieved her property from Horvath, only to gape in wonder as it touched her skin.

"What is it?" Maggie asked.

Renee held her treasure out so that everyone could see. Below the title, a drawing of a pentagram had appeared, glowing like the message in the glass.

The older woman's face clouded. "That's the symbol of witchcraft," she noted. "That book is evil, Renee. Get rid of the thing, now, or I'll do it for ye. Burn it!" She pointed to the fire blazing in the hearth.

"No!" The girl backed away, clutching the spell book tightly against her chest. "Ye'll not take it!"

"Then do it yourself! I'll not have witchcraft in my house!" She started toward her younger sibling, her intent clear.

Without another word, Renee turned and fled. She and her prize disappeared outside, into the winter night.

"Renee!" Maggie called after her, and would have followed, but for Alvar's arms that found her and held her in place. His eyes sought out his peer. "Horvath, go bring her back," he instructed. "She won't last long out there without even a coat."

The elite sorcerer deigned to obey. He brushed past the others, out the door with a conjured fireball for light, in search of the runaway girl.

Alvar held his distraught hostess in his arms. After a few moments, she stopped trying to break free and simply bowed her head in defeat. He led her back to her favorite chair. She sat, and he kneeled at her side, where she clutched tightly the hands he offered for support. They waited in silence; there was no need for words.

* * *

Horvath found her in the barn, doing her best to saddle one of the two shaggy ponies there while keeping a stable blanket from falling off her shoulders. Her precious book sat unguarded atop a trunk.

Experimentally, the visitor let his fingertips brush against it, and the glowing pentagram vanished. He still couldn't open it.

Renee was there in an instant. She slapped the hand that had dared to touch her property, hard. "Get away," she ordered, as he pulled back in shock. "Leave me be." Her voice trembled, either in rage or distress, or perhaps both.

Horvath massaged his smarting hand. "And just where do you think you're going?" he demanded, his tone as cold as the air outside the barn. It wasn't much better in here, but the warmth from his fire and from the body heat of the animals did help.

"I don't know. I don't care." She shivered. Lifting the book, she hugged it to herself protectively. "She wants to destroy it, but I willna have that. I have to keep it away fro' her. She's not gonna take away what's mine. It chose my family, chose _me_. I dinna know if we're meant to hae it, but it's mine now. I have to keep it safe."

"So you think you're going to run away, tonight, with no boots or coat, not to mention any way to see where you're going? Don't be foolish, girl."

"Help me!" she cried. "I dinna know what to do." She seemed on the verge of tears.

Horvath, who had no patience for such weakness, scowled at her. "Why don't you hide it somewhere?" he suggested. "Out here, maybe, inside that trunk? You can tell your sister you lost it in the snow."

"You mean...lie?" Renee wasn't sure she understood. "But Maggie hates lies. What if she finds out?"

"Would you rather lose the book?"

The girl blinked at him. "No..." she admitted, as he'd known she would. Then her expression grew crafty. "Ye dinna want me to lose it, either, do ye? Ye want to see what's inside, too."

After all, this man had been the one to free it from its case.

"Yes, of course," Horvath allowed, wary at her sudden change of tone. "I don't expect to find any spells that I don't already know, but there may be personal notes that didn't make it into the copies. They might be of interest."

She set the tome back down where it had been when Horvath came in. Although the pentagram was once again aglow, she had no better success than he had when she attempted to open the cover. She shook her head. "It knows I'm its guardian, but it willna let me read. Now what do we do?"

They spent the next few minutes pondering, until Horvath came to a certain conclusion. "You're not empowered yet," he told Renee. "You need a ring." With a certain reluctance, he slid the ornament he'd confiscated from another young sorcerer off the bottom of his cane. "Here." He dropped it onto her palm. "I could make one for you from scratch, but this is more convenient, and it doesn't require the activation ritual."

"Activation?" she repeated. "But Maggie didna have to do anything special."

He paused, confused. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"Her wedding ring. She dinna need it tae do her magic. She's been that way long as I can remember. Why do I need a ring?"

Oh. Now he understood. "Renee," he explained, "every sorcerer has his own innate talent, as well as the skills we all pick up through training. We're born with the first, so we don't have to wait until we get our sorcerer rings to use them. Your sister's wedding ring isn't a sorcerer ring, and it won't be unless and until she has one of us help turn it into one. Have you ever seen her do any magic besides healing?"

"Well, no..."

"There you go. Now put on your ring."

She tried it on. It was a little too big, but–as sorcerer rings were wont to do–adjusted itself smoothly to the correct size. She stared in amazement. "Wow," was all she could find to say.

"Now try again to open it," her benefactor suggested.

To their consternation, the spell book remained as obstinate as ever. "It's still not enough," huffed the young woman, frustrated. "Maybe it'll only open for a scion, like the writing said. How can I find out if that means me? It might; we lost track of our roots a long time ago. What can I do to prove myself? What does this thing want, my very blood?"

Something connected. "That's it," said Horvath with dawning realization. "It has to be. 'The blood of Morgana runs true.' The message said you had to give of yourself, so the book can recognize you. What's more integral than blood?" He reached inside his coat to retrieve one of his ever-present daggers.

Now Renee was frightened. "Don't...don't hurt me," she pleaded, shrinking away from him.

"Only a nick," he assured her, taking care to keep his hands at his sides, the dagger's blade pointed at the floor. "Just enough to draw a little blood. If this is anything like the ring activation ritual, it will heal itself before we leave this barn. If not..." He shrugged. "Well, your sister is supposedly a healer, right?"

Renee stared wordlessly. He leaned his cane against the trunk–temporarily, just long enough to accomplish his task-then stretched out his empty hand toward her. She allowed him a firm grip on her wrist. The girl squeezed her eyes shut until the deed was done, and bit her lip to keep from crying out at the sudden prick of pain.

And so it was done. One red fingertip traced upon the glowing pentagram until the image darkened with a hiss as of pressurized steam. Renee snatched her hand away. "Ouch! It burned my finger!" Reflexively, she put the wounded digit in her mouth. When the burning abated, she examined her hand, only to find it as unblemished as it had been before the cut. She and Horvath both smiled.

Finally, the Book of Incantations lay unsealed. Its owner encountered no further resistance when she moved to examine its contents. As she pored over the illustrations and unfamiliar languages inside, her companion gave voice to what had hitherto been only strong suspicion.

"We have proof now," he told her. "You and your sister aren't just sorcerers. You, both of you, are direct descendants of Morgana herself."

* * *

"I'd better let them know I found you," he said.

Renee looked up in alarm. "No, please," she begged. "She mustn't know where it is. She mustn't know I can read it...well, some o' it, anyway. Please, don't go."

"You can't stay out here all night. Even if you do, what will you do tomorrow? Alvar and I are going back home, but you say your sister doesn't want you leaving."

"I don't care what she wants." The girl was defiant again. Then, seeing the reticence in Horvath's face, she changed her stance. In a softer, silkier voice, she continued. "Take me with you tomorrow, Maxim. I need you." She moved in close, her hand running up his arm to the shoulder. The green eyes seemed to deepen.

He stared, transfixed. Something had changed in a mere instant. No longer a stubborn girl child, the vision before him had become a woman of nearly irresistible allure. He felt his body respond even as his mind recoiled. What spell was this? He couldn't move, couldn't stop her from drawing his head down...

He closed his eyes, and he was kissing the woman he'd always wanted, the one who had chosen another. Here, up on a lonely mountain, he and Veronica were together at last. He dropped his cane in order to pull her nearer still.

She whispered into his ear. "Teach me everything you know, my love. I'll do anything you want, be anything you want. Take me with you."

"Anything..." It was little more than a groan.

"Everything."

No, that wasn't right. The greed, the lust for power, was too obvious. This woman was _not_ Veronica. Horvath's eyes snapped open, and he pulled away, frowning. The illusion vanished, and only Renee stood there in the barn with him. "Stop it," he commanded angrily. "Whatever you're doing, just stop." He turned to go.

"Wait!" she called, her fear returned. "You willna tell them...?"

He didn't look back. "Leave the book here tonight. Come back to the house with me, and I won't say anything about it. Deal?"

He waited; and, after a bit, heard her approach from behind. She stepped to his side. "You dropped this," she noted. In her hand was Horvath's blue-tipped cane. She held it out to him.

He took it, shaken that he'd been so distracted as to leave it behind, and she couldn't conceal a smile of satisfaction. "Deal," she agreed.


	4. Moving day

Benjamin was up bright and early, though the morning was neither. He was sitting on the living room floor in his unbuttoned coat, a hunk of cheese clenched in his teeth as he struggled to pull on the second of his little winter boots, when his mother and her guests came upon the scene.

"Ben!" Maggie swooped in and snatched the boot from his hand. "And just where d'ye think ye're going, young man?"

He mumbled something past his mouthful of cheese. Mother held out her hand to confiscate the rest of it. He surrendered it with a pout. As he was still busy chewing, he simply pointed toward his desired destination.

"The barn? Why? You're too late for Bessie's morning milking. I've just come back in. She won't be ready again 'til this evening."

He managed an answer at last. "Funny horses." The boy smiled. "I wanna ride."

Maggie's face reddened. "Benjamin," she chided, "You canna just go taking someone else's animal. If you want a ride, you'll have to ask one of these nice gentlemen if he'll take you out with him." She glanced aside at the men, who were looking more amused than anything else. "I'm sorry, lads. I try to teach him manners, but..."

Alvar gave a low chuckle. "It's all right. He can come with me right now while I tend to the mules, and the other animals, too, while I'm out there. We won't be riding for a while, though, not until we're ready to leave."

"We're going out?" Ben was excited now at the prospect of a trip.

"Ben!" his mother scolded again. "Hush now!" Then, to Alvar: "Sorry again, Doctor. We so rarely go into town, and then it's only to get more supplies."

A new voice entered the conversation. "Well, I _am_ goin' out." Renee stood in the doorway, her boots already on. Her attitude was every bit as defiant as it had been the night before.

Uh-oh. There was going to be trouble, they all knew. Quickly, Alvar moved to the boy's side and reached down to pull him to his feet. "Let's go see the mules," he suggested, hoping to get out before the argument began. "You can sit on one while I take care of it."

Maggie turned to him. "My son isn't going anywhere, Doctor," she informed him. "Not until he gets that coat buttoned and his boots on." She still held the one she'd snatched. "On the right feet," she added, sitting him back down and yanking off the footwear into which he'd forced the wrong appendage. He yelped, but forgot the pain when she gave him back the cheese.

When Alvar had gone outside with his new ward, Horvath dared to focus on Renee. He stared at her nervously: had she hidden the book well enough? She saw the question in his face and answered it with a barely perceptible nod. He relaxed only a little.

Now the two sisters squared off. Maggie stood firm, her arms folded across her chest as if she were pronouncing judgment on a contumacious daughter. "Renee Catriona Stewart," she began, "I've had just about enough o' this from you. Ye've been nothing but obstinate ever since that seance las' night, and I'm nae putting up with it anymore. Ye'll mind your manners, or ye'll spend the day upstairs in your room, until our guests are gone."

Renee shook here head. "No, Maggie. I'm old enou' to do what I want. Ye canna make me listen to you. I'm goin' out, and ye canna stop me."

"Going out where? We're not due for a supply run for another week, maybe two if we're lucky."

With a triumphant grin, the younger woman replied, "I'm goin' with Horvath. I'm moving out, Maggie." She stepped around her sister, to the man who watched silently to one side. She clutched his arm possessively.

Maggie glared first at Renee, then accusingly at Horvath. "And what have ye to say for yourself, sir? Did you put my sister up to this?"

He did his best to look as shocked and dismayed as possible. In truth, he supported Renee's decision; this was, after all, the goal of their visit. However, it wouldn't do to antagonize his hostess, particularly since they hoped to persuade her to join them. He denied Maggie's charge. "No, not directly..."

That didn't help. Horvath tried again to mollify his accuser. "Perhaps it's for the best to let her come with us. We can teach her how to use her powers..."

"Witchcraft! I forbid it!" Maggie strode forward to forcibly separate the pair. Renee simply clung tighter, using her other hand to shove her sister away. Her new ring gleamed on her finger.

Maggie noticed. She backed away, eyes widened in shock. 'I'm too late," she whispered. To their visitor, she put the question that needed no answer. "What have you done?" She turned away from them, and they heard the self-recrimination in her voice. "It's my fault. I should never have let them in. I've invited in the devil, I have. God forgive me."

Horvath, affronted, draw himself up. "Madam, I assure you, I am no devil," he claimed. "I'm as mortal as you are." _Now_, he said to himself with a touch of regret. Though the long years of his life had been often wearisome, there had been wisdom to be gained, as well, and a certain detached perspective that made the loneliness bearable. That, and his obsession with revenge, of course. One had to have something to hold onto, after all.

Things were different now. The Prime Merlinian had been found, Morgana was dead, and his assumed marriage to Veronica had been...unsatisfactory, while it lasted. Her heart belonged to Balthazar, Horvath's best friend both in the beginning, as Merlin's fellow apprentice, and now, when they were masters in their own right. It was hard for Horvath to maintain a detached perspective when the two who meant the most to him seemed just as happy without him. It was hard to control the jealousy, the feeling that he wasn't needed by anyone.

Well, maybe that wasn't true anymore. He had Renee now, an apprentice of his own if he chose to accept her. He relished the thought. To his own surprise, he realized that he was looking forward to their return to his estate.

Renee, for her part, took Maggie's retreat as acceptance. Her initial regret for having caused her sister sorrow quickly vanished, to be replaced by a smile of victory. "I'll have my things all packed before noon," she announced happily, then practically bounced out of the room on her way upstairs.

The chalet's owner stood where she was. From behind her, Horvath could see the arms folded once more, the head bowed in possible prayer. After a time, she straightened, and spoke in measured tones to the guest who had wandered to the hearth. "I've been a sorry excuse for a hostess, I'm afraid. You and the doctor must surely be hungry. I'll go put on the kettle, start breakfast cooking. It shouldna take too long."

Horvath didn't comment; there seemed to be no words to say.

* * *

The boys weren't in the barn, nor was Alvar's mule. Maggie felt a thrill of fear–had the stranger stolen away her son?–but pushed it hastily aside. Be reasonable, she told herself. He wouldn't leave without his friend. I'm just being paranoid because of Renee. She searched the broken snow around the building until she found a set of tracks leading away, to the edge of the meadow nearest where the mountain rose again.

The morning sun was blinding on the snow. Maggie shaded her eyes, following the tracks with annoyance slowly giving way to worry. What if something had happened while she was back at the lodge...? The house, she reminded herself furiously. This wasn't Sweden, and there were no bears in Scotland... She picked up her pace.

Halfway to the vanguard of pines upon the meadow, she stopped. From their midst came a movement, approaching with the sound of laughter wafting out before them. It was the sorcerer doctor, Benjamin in the saddle leaning back against him in the shelter of the master's arms. They sat high upon the back of a cantering Clydesdale.

The beast came to a stop in front of Benjamin's mother. Smiling, Alvar tipped his hat to her, while her son kicked the horse's sides in a futile effort to keep it moving. "Giddyap!" he shouted, but the Clydesdale ignored him.

"Ben," his mother warned sternly. "Be still." The boy sulked, but obeyed. Maggie glared next at Alvar. "I thought ye weren't going riding this morning." The man started to answer, but she cut him off with a wave. Ben had a way of charming the unwary into doing what he wanted. She continued. "Ye had a mule when ye came here. Where'd this bloody big thing come from?"

The physician looked a bit abashed, but only a bit. "Oh, begging your pardon, mum." In a trice, the original animal stood where the draft horse had been, much to Ben's disappointment. "We decided to have some fun before I have to leave, so we were trying out different mounts. Your son liked the biggest one best."

She shook her head. "Oh, no, not you, too. Dealing with Renee is bad enough. You know I canna countenance magic in my house, and so she's turned against me. Are you trying to turn my son against me, too?" Inexplicably, she felt betrayed, as if she'd trusted the man without even knowing him. She attributed such trust to his profession.

Alvar dismounted, but let the boy stay atop the mule. Ben clung to the pommel while his escort led the animal back to the barn, Mother on the mule's other side.

"I came to fetch you both for breakfast," Maggie said as they walked. "Please, no more magic today. I canna take any more." She sounded almost desperate.

"Magic! More magic!" Ben pleaded in direct contradiction to his mother's wishes.

Alvar looked past the beast he was leading to the woman who walked beyond. Her face was stricken, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "All right, no more magic today." He clapped a hand on the rider's small thigh to stop the squeal of protest. "No, Ben. Listen to your mother."

She waited in the barn for them while they tended to the mule and its equipment. "I can take care of this myself," Alvar told her. "You don't have to wait for me." To this, she only responded, "I don't mind." She wanted to say more, he could tell, but perhaps not in front of the boy. He finished as quickly as he could, and the three of them returned to the house for their much-belated breakfast.

* * *

If Maggie wanted to speak with the doctor alone, she would have to make her own opportunity. Her son simply adored his new friend–a fact that escaped no one, least of all his mother. She remained mute and thoughtful while the others prepared to leave, and Ben begged to go along with them. At length, while her child was busy helping his aunt Renee carry her things out to the barn to stuff into her pony's saddlebags, Maggie took her visitor aside.

"He likes you," she noted. "He doesn't want you to leave him."

Alvar smiled. "I like him, too. Maybe I can come back sometime to visit again."

She looked down at the headless bearskin rug. "It's Renee. That's why I decided to move out here, away from everybody. She's...different. Like me, I suppose, but not the same. She's hungry, and not in a healthy way. I thought...out here, all alone, she'd be safe from the temptations of the world. I was wrong."

"I'm sorry," he apologized again. "Maybe you were right. Maybe we never should have come here."

His hostess gave a half-hearted shrug. "It was inevitable, I suppose. If not you, it would have been somebody else." Then, lifting her eyes to his, she revealed, "I'm glad it was you, Doctor."

He was touched without understanding quite why. Despite the disruption he'd caused in her life, she didn't hold it against him. "Will you be all right?" he asked. "You and Ben, after we're gone?" He wished he could stay longer, but duty called him home.

"No," she replied, somewhat to his surprise. "There's no reason for us to stay here, not without Renee. I don't mind the isolation, but Ben should be around other people. He's lonely."

"Are you saying...?"

Her nod confirmed his hopeful speculation. "I'd like to come with ye, Doctor, me and little Ben. Someone needs to keep that sister of mine in line."

* * *

They headed down the mountain rather later than they'd intended, adding a sense of urgency to the already mixed emotions of the party. Renee led the way, being more familiar with the path than were the men. Horvath followed, then Alvar and Ben. Maggie brought up the rear, leading their cow Bessie by a rope halter, to be sold along with the ponies once they reached the town below.

The warmth of the afternoon sun never reached the ground in spots overhung by trees. Here the path was icy, where melting snow from the upper path trickled down and froze again. Renee avoided those spots, and the mules stepped around them in her wake.

Bessie wasn't so discerning. She walked straight when her leader moved to the right, oblivious to the danger underfoot. Maggie saw and gave a warning tug, but she was already too late. The beast went down in a sprawling, bawling heap.

The party heard the commotion and halted, alarmed. Maggie was on foot now, hurrying to the animal in distress. The cow flailed on its side, so that its kicking hoofs were as dangerous as the ice. Its cries were loud enough to drown out any attempt at human conversation.

Maggie approached from the back, away from the hoofs. She laid one hand on the cow's shoulder, and the other on its head between the ears. The beast calmed immediately as the woman closed her eyes. "Her foreleg is fractured," she intoned to nobody in particular. "That's why she can't get back up." Then, as the others watched, the woman called a priestess began to pray. Even Ben knew enough to sit quietly while his mother was so occupied.

Maggie's voice, though not loud, was clear enough for them to hear every word. She prayed, while her splayed fingers rested on the wounded animal's hide. "O Lord, I beg of thee a boon. If thou wilt, bring healing to this body, that thy glory may be shown. Cleanse me, O Lord, of all iniquity, that thy power may flow through thy servant unimpeded. Let all see and give thee praise. In the blessed name of our Lord Jesus Christ, amen."

The supplicant waited, her face serene. Bessie's body relaxed; dead, it would seem to someone who didn't know.

Renee knew. She watched the men for their reactions, for this was the proof of healing for which they'd originally come to her home. She smiled when the beast arose, whole, and the master sorcerers stared at each other in awe. Their visit had proved to be so much more than worthwhile.

* * *

Horvath and Renee took the front seat of the Oxford, the girl clutching her precious book close. She was too excited at the moment to read any more. Instead, she interrogated the driver. "Tell me more aboot magic, Horvath. What can I do? Will I need a cane like yours? Is it really evil, or is that just Maggie being superstitious?"

He spared her a sideways glance. "Would it bother you if I said it was evil?"

She returned his smile. "Well, no, not really. I figure it's what we do with it that's important. Jus' because something looks bad to one person, that dinna mean it's bad to someone else. I jus' don't want to fight wi' my sister aboot it, is all."

"My thoughts exactly," he agreed. "Some people say Morgana was evil. You two, as her descendants, have that strike against you already. Do you consider yourselves evil?"

She giggled. "Nae, not a whit. 'Specially Maggie; she's so moral I canna stand her sometimes."

"There, you see? And no, you won't need a cane. Your ring is enough. I only use a cane because it can hold more jewels, so it looks more impressive when they light up."

"Oh, I thought it was like a wand, but the doctor dinna have one. I thought that was what made you stronger than him."

"No," he replied. "Our power is innate. Remember what I told you in the barn? We're born with our own level of power, as well as our natural talents. Your sister's talent, and Morgana's, is healing."

"How can I find out what my talent is?" she wanted to know.

Horvath thought back to the previous evening. The memory was still vivid, and still disturbing. "I think," he said slowly, "you've already used it at least once." From the corner of his eye, he caught her look of puzzled interest. "Why were you living so far away from people?" he asked, apparently changing the subject.

The girl turned away from him. He waited for her response, which took some time, but his patience was finally rewarded. "I...like boys," she murmured. "They like me, too."

He said nothing, but let her continue at her own pace. At her age, it was natural to show heightened interest in romance. She was comely enough, too, with a strong enough personality to attract as many suitors as she liked. So far, there was nothing unusual in her admission.

"Rich boys."

"Ah." He was beginning to understand now.

"...or their fathers."

He nearly stopped the car at that. _"Their fathers?"_

Now she was defensive. "I haven't actually done that part yet, Horvath. Tha's for later on, after I find a boy I want to keep. I dinna want to wait for the son to inherit everythin'. The boy I can use meself, until I get tired o' him, but I want the inheritance now."

"And what about the mothers? Even if we don't count the age difference, Renee, you don't go after a married man." Even the longtime Morganian leader had his limits.

"I'd make him divorce her." She smiled, pleased with her own scheming.

"Just so you can have a rich husband, and his son for your use as a plaything? Couldn't you at least look for somebody who's single? A bachelor, or a widower maybe?"

"But that's no fun," she complained. "I want the challenge. I can do it, Horvath. I can make them all do what I want. Haven't you ever done that, make people do what you want?"

"No." The answer was short and sharp, and a lie at that. This conversation had taken a distinctly unpleasant turn, and he wanted to end it, now.

Renee must have sensed his displeasure, for she let his answer stand unchallenged. She assumed an ingenuous tone. "You say I've already used my talent, Horvath. When?"

He drove in silence for a few minutes, letting her wonder, before he made his confession. "Last night, in the barn." She shook her head in confusion; did she even know her own power? "I don't kiss just anyone," he revealed. "You did something I wasn't expecting, but it won't work again. My guess is that your advances with humans don't fail very often."

"Never," she confirmed with a grin. "I can have any man I choose. I jus' haven't found anyone I want yet, not for more than one night."

"And that's why Maggie had you move in with her up there in the mountains. She was trying to curb your ambition until you're grown enough to control it."

"I am grown!" she objected. "I reached the age of consent more'n two summers ago."

"That doesn't mean you're grown. In my eyes, you're still a child."

Her expression turned sly. "Ye didna think so las' night," she reminded him.

He spared her no more than a single icy glare before turning his eyes back to the road ahead. She waited, but he made no effort to continue the debate. The subject was closed, for now. Then she looked down, at the book she still held to her chest. "But I can do magic now, or soon, anyway. I'll be on my own then. Maybe I won't even need a husband. I can get whatever I want myself."

"Well, not everything..." Horvath knew about dashed expectations. "You won't have to worry about money, though. You'll have plenty of that."

"Really?"

"Really. And you're going to be too busy learning to even think about boys. That book of yours is only the beginning. We have what we call an Encantus now, bigger and better than any spell book, even Morgana's original. I"ll see that you get one when we get back to the estate."

"Thank you, Horvath," she beamed. "I want to know everything."

"There's a lot to know," he cautioned. "It's going to take years to master it all."

"But ye'll teach me, right?" Her eagerness had returned.

"Yes, I'll teach you," he replied, but privately he wondered if that was indeed a wise decision. Only time would tell.

* * *

In the back seat, Ben sat between his mother and his new best friend. They couldn't hear the conversation in front, which was probably just as well for Maggie's peace of mind. She was worried enough about what they would encounter at their destination.

"Is everyone there a sorcerer?" she asked.

Alvar shook his head. "Not everyone. Dave's girlfriend Becky is a normal human, and then there's the staff. We try not to use visible magic around them, though. Becky knows, but the staff would have to 'forget' before they're allowed to leave."

"So how many sorcerers live there?"

He listed them all, including himself and Horvath, and their relationships to each other. "You'll like them," he predicted. "I think you and Veronica, in particular, will get along very well."

"She's the pregnant girl, right?"

"Yes. She's why we had to return so soon." He'd been reluctant to go back, to take up again his duty as attendant physician, a disinclination grown stronger with every passing month. He couldn't tell anyone, of course, especially Balthazar, the only one who would know the real reason.

The incident with Bessie had changed all that. Alvar's reluctance was gone, replaced by an overwhelming relief and a longing for reunion with the family he'd left at the manor. He tousled the boy's hair beside him, and Ben smiled up at him happily.

"Doctor," scolded their companion, "I just combed his hair when we got in the car. Don't mess it up, please."

"Too late," Alvar replied with an echo of his young friend's smile. "You have no idea how glad I am that you decided to move in with us."

She sat back, pleased, and forgave him his transgression.


	5. New residents

Horvath opened the locked iron gates of the estate with a wave. They drove on through to find the warm lights of the manor welcoming them at the crest of a snow-covered ridge. It was the evening of their second day of travel.

Renee sat beside her promised teacher, agog. "It's huge," she declared, to his evident delight. "Big as a castle, it is."

"Well, not quite," he corrected, "but Chandra was right: there's plenty of room for everyone."

"Chandra?"

"The woman you saw at the meeting."

"Oh. Right." She said nothing more until the car was parked safely in the garage, and they all climbed out to go inside the house. Deliberately, she held onto Horvath's arm, allowing the others to lead the way. When they had gone a sufficient distance ahead, she had a favor to ask of her escort. "Horvath, ye willna tell them aboot...the barn, will ye?"

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Why not?" In fact, he had no such intention, but that was for his own reasons. His moment of weakness he meant to keep to himself. He was, however, curious to hear why Renee had asked for his silence.

"Well..." She stared at the cobblestones at their feet. "I...I dinna want them to think badly of me. I try to be good, really I do. It's just...I canna help myself. Maggie doesn't understand, and I dinna think your friends will, either."

He accepted that, "On one condition." Her worried eyes shifted to him. "You focus on learning magic. No more going after boys, or men. If you're going to be my apprentice, I want your full attention, understand?"

She nodded happily. "Thank'ee so much, Horvath. I'll be good, I promise."

Inside, Balthazar gave them but a cursory greeting before ushering his master away. "Veronica's been asking for you," he explained, the worry evident in both face and voice. Alvar left the new residents for Horvath to introduce in person.

The Morganian leader did so. "Renee Stewart," he began, indicating the girl at his side. "You met her–well, some of you did–at the meeting two nights ago. Last night's contact had been only a brief telephone call, devoid of additional information. "This..." he nodded, "is her sister Maggie, and Maggie's son Ben." He went on to name the others in the room: Dave, Becky, and Chandra.

"Welcome, ladies," said Chandra with a smile. "And you, too, Ben." The boy, suddenly shy, hid behind his mother. "Is it true that you didn't know you were sorcerers?"

"I'm not a sorcerer," Maggie insisted.

Renee just rolled her eyes. "She willna admit it, but yes she is, and so am I. In fact, we're direct descendants of Morgana...but no, we didn't know it until these two gentlemen came calling."

"Morgana?" Chandra, and the younger couple, were more than a little taken aback.

The girl nodded, pleased with her obviously important ancestry. "Aye," she confirmed. "She left us her book." She held out the spell book proudly. The pentagram glowed on its cover.

Her sister saw it, and her eyes narrowed. She lunged forward to grab the offending tome...only to be hurled back with an upward fling of Renee's defensive arm. Drake's ring glowed on the younger girl's hand, while Maggie was sent crashing into the wall at the far side of the room.

"Mama!" Ben scurried to his mother, who sat slumped against the wall, shaking her head in an effort to clear it.

She held him tight for a minute. "I'm all right," she assured him again and again, until his distress faded and he sat quietly beside her on the floor. Her own initial shock, kept under careful control for her son's sake, faded along with his.

Renee, for her part, was as stunned as anyone else. She barely noticed when Horvath took hold of her outstretched arm and lowered it back to her side. He pressed her other arm, with the book, close against her chest and held it there. "Nobody's going to take it," he told her. "However, I strongly advise you to put it away somewhere, in storage. You'll be using an Encantus anyway."

"All...all right," she agreed. "I'm sorry, Maggie. I dinna mean to hurt you."

Ben glared at her, his resentment clear, but Maggie just looked sad. "I'm afraid it will only get worse," she lamented. "I would that ye'd stay away from magic altogether." Noting the stubborn set of her sister's jaw, she sighed. "I know, I know. Well, at least I'll be here to give you good advice, even if ye don't think ye need it." Chandra helped her to her feet, and Ben dared now to stand unhidden from the older woman.

Becky was curious. "Maggie," she asked. "Why don't you like magic? I'd love to have sorcerer powers. I feel left out sometimes because I can't see everything Dave is doing, and I can't do all this cool stuff that everyone else can do." Her beau gave her a comforting squeeze, and she smiled her thanks. "It's okay," she told him. Then, to Maggie again, "You can do that, though. Why would you not want to?"

The redhead explained while Renee sat bored in the nearest chair. She'd heard it all before. When the explanation was done, the younger girl added with heavy sarcasm, "You dinna count the magic you do whenever there's a need. All magic is evil, _except_ yours, I suppose."

Alvar chose that moment to reappear at the doorway. "Maggie is a healer," he revealed to the astonished trio who hadn't witnessed the demonstration on the mountain trail. "That's a good thing, because Veronica just might need her services."

* * *

She lay propped up by pillows, and her husband's supporting arm behind her shoulders. She leaned her head against him. He was a comfort to her, even if he could do nothing to ease her pain. With his free hand, he gently stroked her hair and cheek, holding her tighter when the spasms shook her body and she couldn't stop a wince from showing on her face. She was afraid; for herself, yes, but more than that, for the child that was growing inside her.

When Alvar returned with the stranger, Veronica attempted a smile. She failed, but it didn't matter. The other woman hadn't come to exchange pleasantries.

"What's wrong?" asked Maggie of her friend the doctor.

"Toxemia, for one thing," Alvar replied. "The only real cure is delivery, but it's too soon. The baby wouldn't survive."

"For one thing?"

"Yes. We're afraid there's some kind of poison affecting the child, which is a serious aggravating factor. It's dangerous to let it keep going, but the only other option..." He didn't want to say it in front of the parents.

Balthazar, who'd lived through the decades when such a choice had become all too easy for so many, knew what his master meant. He shook his head. "Not unless there's absolutely no alternative," he said firmly.

Veronica agreed. "I have faith in you, Alvar," she declared, albeit in a voice weak with exhaustion. "We'll be all right, now that you've come back." She held out a hand to him, which he took and squeezed in gratitude.

"Thank you," he said, "but Maggie here is the better one to trust." Sadness tinged the words, shadowed his eyes as he turned away from her. He retreated back to the doorway as his patient stared in confusion and just a little hurt.

Balthazar stared, too, but with somewhat more understanding of the reason for his master's reticence. He said nothing, however; it wasn't his place to do so, and he'd never been given leave. Instead, he looked to the newcomer. "Maggie? What does he mean?"

Her attention had been on the physician, but now the woman focused on her questioner. "He means my gift," she answered. Whatever else she was thinking–and she was definitely thinking much more–she left unsaid. "Veronica, do you want to be healed?"

"Yes, of course," was the cautious response.

"Are you a woman of faith, despite your use of sorcery?"

Veronica frowned, and so did her husband. "Yes..." As more seemed to be expected, she continued. "I...we...know that sorcery can't explain everything. Merlin said we were all servants, because we'll have to answer to the ultimate master someday."

"And that's it? Do you know the master for yourself?"

Balthazar interrupted the conversation. "Why the interrogation, Maggie? What does this have to do with healing?"

"Everything. I can help ye, but ye must believe. Let the gift of God drive away your reliance on the powers of darkness. Trust in Him, not in mere idolatrous magic."

"I do trust..." Veronica began, but was cut off by another convulsion that drained the blood from her face. Balthazar held her tight, and added his own assurance. "We both do," he told the unofficial priestess. "Please, help us."

Maggie's smile was both warm and gentle. Moving forward, she placed her hands on either side of the patient's pregnant belly. "Pray with me," she said.

* * *

Renee, meanwhile, hadn't been idle. She watched her sister leave with the doctor; then, apparently feeling a bit safer, she allowed her precious book to lie in full view on a nearby coffee table. The glowing symbol faded as she withdrew her hand. The others stared at it, curious, but no one made a move to touch it. Renee allowed herself to relax.

Horvath gave her a grim smile. "There, you see? You can trust us. Can we trust you, though?"

"Trust me?" The girl was baffled. "What d'ye mean, Horvath?" Ben had crept along the wall until he stood beside, and a little behind, his aunt. He was still shy around so many strangers. Renee rested a hand on his shoulder, pulling him against her for security...whether hers or the boy's, none could tell.

"We have rules in this house," her tutor explained. He laid them out for her, just as he had earlier reminded Dave, then peered at her expectantly. "Can we trust you to obey the rules, and to obey me especially when I tell you to do something? We don't want any more surprises."

"Oh." She felt her face flush, and bent her head downward to hide it. "Aye," she acknowledged at last. "I'll do my best."

Someone touched her arm. She looked up to see Becky, sympathetic and encouraging before her. "It's okay," said the blonde. "We understand. It's tough when everything is so different from what you're used to, huh? It was tough for me, too, getting used to being around magic so much. Then, moving here...it's a whole new life."

Renee's brown curls bobbed as she nodded. "Aye, a new life it is."

"Well, don't worry. You'll fit right in, once we get you settled, okay?"

The newcomer wasn't convinced, but she did feel better now. Becky steered her toward the doorway to an adjacent room. Ben, torn between staying with his aunt or waiting here for his mother to return, unhappily chose the former. The adults didn't seem to notice. "Come on," their guide invited. "Dave and I will show you around. Then, when we finish the tour, we can sit in the kitchen and have some herbal tea."

"Herbal tea? Why? Are you ill?"

Becky giggled. "No, I'm fine. I just like the taste, that's all. It's my favorite drink." She noticed the other girl's skepticism. "Oh, it's much better than what you think. My tea doesn't taste like medicine at all. Truth is, though, I had to teach people here how to make it, 'cause the only tea they know, besides the medicine, is black...strong black, at that."

"Well, yes." Renee was fascinated. Obviously, there was much she didn't know about Americans and their ways. She wanted to know more, and said so.

She was rewarded with a grin of pleasure. "I'd love to fill you in," Becky declared. "It's been like forever since I had the chance to chat with another girl my age, or close enough anyway, what with having to keep so much of our lives secret from the outside world. Hey, you think your little burst of magic back there was bad? Let me tell you about my botched date with Dave here."

Her escort groaned. "Becky, please don't..." He was still embarrassed about the episode with the mops, even now after he'd gained control of his magic.

She ignored him."It was great," she laughed. "It didn't seem so good at the time, but that was the night that Dave and I really clicked. Just goes to show, even if something bad happens to you, it might lead to something good later on."

"I suppose..." Renee didn't understand, but she was willing to listen anyway.

"Um, hold on just a minute," Dave requested. He pulled his girlfriend aside, away from the others. 'Becky," he began in hushed tones, "let's not go telling her too much, okay? She is Morgana's great-whatever granddaughter, after all; we don't want her to feel like we're her family's enemies. Besides, I don't think she knows who Morgana was, not really. Having a bad seed like that, well...we don't want her to hate her own flesh and blood, either."

Becky nodded. "I understand," she replied. "I'll leave out everything except what I saw for myself. We'll let someone else fill her in on Morgana."

"Thanks." He gave her a quick hug, and the pair returned to the curious brunette. "Ready to go?" asked Dave.

Renee shrugged. "Aye," she affirmed. She held her nephew's hand as they toured the manor together.

* * *

The elder couple emerged from their bedroom hand-in-hand with matching smiles of delight. Horvath, in conversation with his remaining companion Chandra, heard their approach through the hallway. He let his sentence lapse, forgetting even the subject they'd just been discussing. When Balthazar led his wife through the doorway of the parlor, the pair stood together in the room, still beaming. Horvath held their eyes briefly, but then had to look away to keep them from seeing the battle he still hadn't won.

"It's a girl," the father-to-be announced. "Mother and child are doing fine now, thanks to our new teammate Maggie. She's a Godsend, and I mean that literally." Balthazar scanned the room. "Where are the kids?" he asked. "We wanted Veronica to meet everyone."

"On tour," Chandra informed him. "They might be in the kitchen by now. They wanted to chat without us oldsters around."

Maggie had joined the group in the parlor by now. "Good," she said. "I do hope they become friends. Renee needs to have a friend or two her own age. Ben's with them, then?" Chandra nodded with a mumbled, "Mm-hmm," and the widow shook her head. "It's past his bedtime," she told them. "Maybe he's still wound up from all the excitement today, but I'd better go retrieve him before he falls asleep at the kitchen table. If someone would be so kind as to show me the way...?"

Veronica volunteered immediately. "It's so good to be able to walk again without my back hurting," she declared. "I'll show you. I'd still like to meet them both." She gave her husband a farewell kiss, then the two ladies departed the room.

Chandra yawned. "It's past my bedtime, too, I'm afraid." She rose from her chair; Horvath, out of politeness, rose also. The woman turned to the lone Merlinian left in the parlor. "I'm glad that your wife is better now, Balthazar. Please tell her and the others 'goodnight' for me, will you?" She dipped her head in a curtsey to Horvath. "And I'm glad you're back, too, you old goat. Believe it or not, I actually missed you." She smiled to take the sting, mild as it was, out of her words. "Goodnight, boys." She left the men alone.

The ensuing silence might have turned awkward, but the returned traveler recovered the moment. Smoothly, he strode to the counter in one corner, on which sat a red liquid in a crystal decanter, surrounded by goblets on a silver tray. He poured drinks for himself and his fellow former apprentice. "To a healthy baby girl," he toasted, and the two men were brothers again.

* * *

Not too much later, Balthazar visited his master. Alvar was in his room, slumped over at his study desk with his head buried in his hands. An open medical textbook lay unread between his elbows.

"Master?" He kept his voice soft, in case the man at the desk was actually asleep or didn't want to be disturbed.

Alvar was neither. "Balthazar," he acknowledged without moving.

"Are you all right?"

The elder man took his time in replying. "I will be," he said finally.

Anyone else would have taken that as a dismissal. Balthazar chose instead to come closer. He sat on his master's bed and simply waited, his intention clear: he wasn't going anywhere until he was ordered to leave.

It took a while, but Balthazar won the test of endurance. Alvar raised his head and straightened up, sighing. He closed the textbook without bothering to even look at it. "I thought I could handle it," he said with heavy regret. "It's not like I've never dealt with other difficult pregnancies after..." He didn't have to say it. "Veronica was different," he confessed. "Working with humans as part of my scouting duty, that was business. I didn't even know them."

Balthazar nodded. "It's different when you care about the patient, when it's personal."

"Yes. I mean, of course I cared about the humans I treated. I'm a physician; caring is a natural part of that profession. As you say, though, it wasn't personal."

"Is that why you wanted to be away so much these last few months? You wanted to make your attachment to your patient less personal?" The ambivalence was evident in his voice: concern for his master's state of mind weighed against Veronica's growing need for his attention.

Alvar heard the unspoken conflict. His own came through in return. "I couldn't help her, Balthazar. All my ministrations weren't doing any real good. She was getting worse, and there was nothing I could do about it. Once the labor pains started, assuming the baby lasted that long, I didn't know if I'd be able..." He shuddered, remembering another woman, another child. "So much blood. Both of them..." He slouched forward again.

Balthazar finished the thought. "...and only Morgana could have saved them." They both knew, though, how much Morgana had despised mere humans, even if they were the wife and infant son of her own apprentice. She could have saved them, but she would almost certainly have refused, if for no other reason than to ensure loyalty to herself alone. Morgana had never understood the power or necessity of love.

Alvar twisted in his chair, so that his back was turned to the desk and the unread book. He met the sad blue eyes of his apprentice and adopted son. "But now we have Maggie," he said. "The daughter of Morgana saved the unborn daughter of her sworn enemy. It's fitting somehow, don't you think?" His smile was full of irony and empty of humor.

"Fitting," Balthazar concurred. "And it's thanks to you that we do have her." Then, in firmer tones, he continued. "But don't think that lets you off the hook, Master. You're still the family physician. We're not going to go running to a healer for every sniffle and scrape. Plus, you have the servants to take care of, and the townsfolk when you're ready to set up shop. No, you don't get a sabbatical. We still need you here."

Now Alvar's smile was genuine. "Thank you, Balthazar. I may be able to sleep tonight, after all."

His visitor stood and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Good," he declared. "I meant every word. Goodnight, Master. Oh, and welcome home."


	6. Training and a new arrival

The Masters mansion had one room which no servant was permitted to enter. It wasn't part of the original building, but had been added when the new owners moved in. Extending beyond the kitchen, the stone walls pushed nearly to the trees growing close behind the house. It was a windowless room, large, with the door from the kitchen a solid slab of rock, immovable except by magic.

Inside was the round rug that Balthazar had gifted to his wife Veronica. A design was imprinted on the rug: the Merlin Circle, identical to the one that had been at their castle home centuries before. The gift was meant to evoke fond memories of home, but now it had another purpose. Now it was the centerpiece of the training room for Dave...

...and now Renee, as well. She watched, spellbound, as Balthazar worked with his apprentice using the various regions of the circle, each region delineated in flame with its own distinctive color. The rug didn't burn, despite the fire it hosted.

Horvath, bemused, gave her his first instructions as her new master. "Watch carefully," he told her. "They don't really need to go through all these exercises. Dave has been training for almost two years now, even if he did have to use a different teacher for some of that time. This is basic stuff they're doing now, just to show you what you can expect."

Dave was warding off shots from his master, shots of fire and plasma and compressed air, sometimes singly, sometimes in combination, from unpredictable points around the perimeter of the circle. Occasionally, a solid object was thrown into the mix, too, and sometimes the illusion of a living enemy. Dave banished a leaping lion, caught midair with outstretched claws just inches from his face. The beast reverted to the circus advertisement it had been a few minutes ago. Dave, and Balthazar his master, smiled.

Renee still had her hands over her open mouth, too late to prevent a little scream at the attack. The two demonstrators stopped, and the trainer spoke to her directly. "You'll be able to do that, too, soon enough," he said. Then he turned to Horvath. "Are you ready to start giving lessons yet? I realize you haven't used the Circle since we were apprentices. Need some more reminders about how it works?"

"No, thank you," Horvath replied, deciding to ignore the other's teasing tone. "I remember enough."

"Okay." Balthazar waved to his student, who dutifully stepped over the flames and off the unburnt rug. "Go for it, then. Let's see who's the better teacher."

"You have the advantage, I'm afraid," demurred the elder sorcerer. "Not only have you been practicing for the last two years, but you have an unmatchable pupil to boot. A contest really wouldn't be fair."

"Unmatchable?" Renee broke in. "How?"

Horvath stared at her in surprise. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Dave here is the Prime Merlinian."

If he was expecting a gasp of awestruck wonder from her, he was doomed to disappointment. Instead, she asked, "What's that?"

Dave himself explained. "Renee, you're a direct descendent of Morgana. Well, the Prime Merlinian–that's me–is a direct descendent of Merlin. What makes me 'Prime' is that I inherited his power, even after all these years. It must have been passed on in a state of quiescence until the time was right, 'cause I don't remember anyone in my family being different that way."

"So, does that mean I'm the Prime Morganian? Or that Maggie and I are both Primes?"

"Well..." He hadn't thought about it like that; hadn't thought about it at all, actually. "Um, I suppose," he answered doubtfully. "I hope I don't have to fight you, though." He didn't want to tell her about the battle in which he'd destroyed her ancestor.

"Why? Did Merlin and Morgana fight each other?"

Oh boy, Dave thought. What could he say to that?

Fortunately, Horvath rescued him from having to respond. "Merlin was Morgana's master, Renee, just as I'm your master now. She was the most powerful apprentice he ever taught. However, they did have a falling-out, and she left him to start her own school. Yes, they fought. Merlin was still stronger, and his side won, eventually. His descendant, the Prime Merlinian, is the strongest sorcerer alive today. That's what makes him unmatchable."

"Ohhhh..." The girl took a perceptibly keener interest in her fellow apprentice from that very moment on.

* * *

Maggie wasn't interested in learning magic. She refused Alvar's offer to craft a ring for her, and discouraged even any discussion of the subject in front of her son. She was, however, open to hearing more about medicine.

"I need to go into town today," the physician informed her. "My supplies are running low, since I've been too busy traveling to restock them. I was wondering if you and Ben would like to come with me."

Ben, who'd been practicing his handwriting and wasn't happy about the chore, instantly accepted the offer. "Yes!" he cried, then belatedly looked to his mother for permission.

She sighed and shook her head. "You'll do anything to get out of schoolwork, won't you?" she accused him. He nodded enthusiastically, entirely missing her tone of disapproval.

Alvar took the boy's side. "Think of it as an educational field trip," he suggested. "We can teach him about what I do and where to look for the different herbs and such when they're ready for use. He may need to know these things someday."

"Well..." She was outvoted, but she still had the final say-so. "I suppose..."

"Yay!" Ben was out of his chair and running for his coat before she had a chance to finish. Maggie sighed again. "That boy." She followed her son to the foyer to get a shawl for herself, Alvar close beside her. "You're going to spoil him," she admonished her companion. "Soon, he'll be expecting to go out every time you leave the house."

"Just today," he countered. "Then I don't plan to go out any more for a while, if you don't count the weekend visits to see how the castle is coming along. So tomorrow I'm staying in, and then Saturday, well...maybe we can make that dependent on how well he does with his exercises. It is awfully cold out, but we still like to take a carriage over there and back, since it's not too far away."

"The castle? You're building a genuine castle, now, in the twentieth century? Why?"

"It's a long story," he said, "and I can't tell you most of it from personal experience. You'll have to hear it from one of the three elites." She was utterly baffled, he could see. When he had helped the lady into her shawl and seen that Ben and he were both coated, he requested, "If you'll let the others know we're leaving, I'll take Ben and bring the car around front for you. Then I'll tell you what I can of the story."

* * *

"You're going with Alvar? But we wanted you to come with us!" Becky spoke for Chandra and Veronica as well. The three of them were gathered in the kitchen, seated around the table with an open newspaper and its ads spread out before them, when Maggie came by to deliver her message. Becky and her housemates were clearly disappointed at their newest member's announcement.

"Sorry, ladies," the redhead replied. "I didn't know you were planning to go anywhere."

"Yeah, we were thinking of doing some shopping in town today–it's market day-and we figured you'd make the perfect price guide since you're sort of a native. Chandra and I are American, in case you couldn't tell, and Veronica...well, it's been a really long time since she knew what the local value of stuff is around here. We think we've been getting ripped off ever since we moved in. We were just going to come and ask you to join us."

Maggie smiled. "I'm not really a native, dear. I'm from Scotland, not England. I just went to university here. That's where I met my late husband, and that's where I picked up these different speech patterns. You'll notice I slip back into brogue when I get tired or upset."

"Oh." Becky thought for a moment, then had another idea. "Well, since we're all going into town anyway, why don't we just meet up there? I can drive the second car once I get the hang of it. Maybe you can come back with us, and let the guys do their own thing if they want."

"We'll see," was the well-practiced response of a young child's mother. "I'd better go now. They'll be waiting for me." She waved, and then disappeared from the kitchen doorway.

Becky recognized the response for what it was: a polite refusal. She slumped in her chair, her mood suddenly deflated. "Oh rats," she groused. "I guess we'll just have to manage on our own again." It was the same feeling she got when she used to take her first car to the mechanic for repairs. She hated haggling, and the town vendors knew it. She wished one of the older men was coming along. "Maybe we can get Alvar to negotiate for us," she hoped aloud.

Chandra laughed. "Not likely," she answered. "Can't you see those two want to spend the day alone? Well, with Ben too, of course, but that can't be helped, what with his aunt Renee busy training."

The younger woman looked incredulous, but Veronica only smiled. "A date?" asked Becky. "Alvar? I thought he was done with romance. I mean, he's even older than you, Veronica. Um, no offense."

Mrs. Blake wasn't offended. "I understand," she said. "Alvar was born before any of the rest of us were, true, but he stopped aging before we did, too. When the spell was lifted after Morgana died, Alvar was restored to normal just as we were. Biologically, he's part of my generation, not that of my parents."

"Well, yeah, I know all that, but still..." She felt awkward.

Veronica completed her thought. "A father should be older, should _look_ older, than his son, even an adopted son like Balthazar."

"Yeah. And I can see that Maggie's a little younger than you, too. I don't want to seem judgmental or anything, but it just feels weird, is all."

Chandra injected her own sardonic observation. "It's only the first week that Maggie and her family have been here. Maybe it won't work out with her and Alvar, and there won't be any need to adjust our expectations. That's assuming that they want anything more than a professional relationship to begin with. For all we know, they might just want to talk shop all day. Let's not jump the gun here."

"Oh, right." Becky wasn't sure whether to be relieved or embarrassed, so she chose to stand instead. "Well, if we're going to get any shopping done today, we really should get started. You ladies can wait for me in front while I bring the car around."

"I'll wait for you," corrected the expectant mother. "Chandra will have the luxury of relaxing on her own couch while we brave the bumpy roads."

"Okay, see you in a few, then." Becky left, and the two remaining women made their way to Chandra's bedroom. Two matching full-length mirrors stood against opposite walls, loosely attached by small silver brackets for ease of removal at will. Chandra herself activated one mirror, turning it into what was meant as a trap but what had been found to have an unexpectedly beneficial purpose. The smooth surface became a rippling, humming expanse of quicksilver. A beckoning wave brought the opposite mirror sailing to its master's side, turned on edge just barely above the carpet in preparation for its transport. Chandra guided it smoothly as she stepped into the world beyond the silver.

The Mirror Trap was now a window. Chandra grabbed the glass she'd brought inside with her to keep it from crashing onto the floor, for the magic which had kept it aloft didn't work here. She stood it beside the window–it would be her portal back to the outside when the time came-as Veronica watched and waited. A few steps back into the reversed bedroom, and the older woman was seated comfortably on the cushioned couch that awaited her. She nodded. "I'm all set. Go ahead."

Veronica spread her fingers wide, thumbs touching and arms raised above her head. As she laid her hands flat against the window, it changed at her touch, flowing outward as she drew her hands apart. The clear glass became instead a tapestry attached to a thin rod at its top and another at the bottom. The sorcerer woman smiled at the woven image of her friend with her shoes already off and feet drawn up onto the couch. Down from the wall came the tapestry, rolling itself up neatly like a scroll until it fit easily into Veronica's grasp. She carried it with her to the foyer to retrieve their winter cloaks.

This was the only way that Chandra Kolinsky could travel in a car, or any other motorized vehicle. Not all sorcerers' natural gifts were convenient.

* * *

Each of the ladies had her own shopping goals in mind. Chandra had discovered the pleasure of sewing projects with her own two hands-the dress she wore today was one such project-for the most part without benefit of magic. She delighted in visiting the various small shops around the market town Church Stretton, buying fabric and notions and other assorted materials. Veronica preferred to keep her walking to a minimum, so she chose instead to stay at the market on the Bristol Road in search of items for her daughter yet unborn. Even in the cold of a late January in the hills, this town still held its market twice a week, every Thursday and Saturday, as it had for centuries past. Becky accompanied her friend for a while, but then left to run an errand of her own.

She missed her music. Here, close to the dawn of the vinyl record era, she had an extraordinary opportunity to become a part of the world she loved. No longer simply a deejay at a college radio station, now she could acquire original recordings of every artist she fancied, could set up a studio of her own to hire musicians and songwriters, could act as both talent scout and agent for those who showed most promise. There were only two problems: first, she needed a place to build her studio; and second, she was finding it difficult to be taken seriously due to her sex and young age, not to mention her American accent.

Well, that was a challenge that Becky gladly accepted. She hadn't given up her life in 2011 America just to be isolated in 1925 England. This was her world now, too, and she meant to make the most of it. Even if I have to buy an empty lot and build my studio from scratch, she thought. Dave has his magic, but I have a magic all my own. Music can take us to any world we like, and we don't even need a ring. She gave a determined nod.

Laughter came from behind her. Becky recognized it and turned with a smile. "Alvar!" she greeted the eldest of the trio.

The laughter was his, mostly. On his shoulders he bore a young king complete with furry, holly-crowned hat and a scepter made of a wych elm branch not quite ready to bud. King Benjamin held out his branch. "Halt!" he commanded, and his bearer agreeably obeyed. Maggie stopped beside them, her arms laden with shopping bags and boxes. "Hello, Becky," she said.

"Hi, Maggie. Looks like you guys have been busy."

"Yes, we were just heading back to the car to go home. It's been a good day. What about you? Have you found everything you wanted?"

She confessed her objective, and her disappointment that it seemed so hard to reach.

Maggie frowned, thinking. Then she made a suggestion: "This is a small town, dear. You might have better luck if you tried Shrewsbury or Ludlow. London, of course, is the best place to look for a studio, but that's so far away."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I checked the post office, but nobody has written back to me yet. Maybe I _would_ have to be based in London to get anyone interested." Becky wasn't ready to explore that possibility just yet, but she kept it in mind for future reference, just in case. "Well, I should go round up Chandra and Veronica. They're probably done by now. Hopefully, they both had better luck than I did finding what they came for." She waved farewell, only to be chastised by the little man atop his human transport.

"Stop!" he ordered imperiously. "I didn't say you could go!"

"Ben," his mother scolded. "That's enough. Be good, or we'll make you walk back to the car."

The king pouted. Becky took pity on him and bowed, partly to keep him from seeing the grin she was fighting to conceal. "By your leave, your majesty," she requested.

"Okay." It was a desultory acceptance, but she took it anyway.

"See you back at the house." This time, her wave went unchallenged.

* * *

Renee was a quick study, motivated as she was both by her fascination with the subject and by her naturally competitive spirit. She wanted not just to catch up with Dave, but even, if possible, to surpass him. The masters approved; the challenge would encourage both apprentices to keep their minds and abilities honed, not to mention keeping their masters on their own toes as well. Horvath and Balthazar enjoyed the friendly rivalry as much as their students did.

Balthazar, of course, had the advantage, as his colleague had already noted. He compensated just a little by allowing Dave to practice on his own while he simply observed from the sideline, correcting but rarely and giving instruction only when he was asked. His apprentice had his own style, which he was happily developing free of interference.

Even so, the girl had no hope of matching the senior apprentice. More than once, she finished her session unsatisfied. She continued her training hours after Dave and Balthazar were through for the day, trying to make up for lost time, and sometimes trying her teacher's patience, too.

"There's no hurry," Horvath told her. "You have years ahead of you; there's no need to rush."

"But I want to know everything!" she exclaimed. "I want people to notice me. I want to be important...you know, special. I want to matter."

"You are special," he assured his student. "We're all special here. Sorcerers have always been rare, and sorcerers from powerful bloodlines are even more so."

She scorned his effort to appease her. "That's nae enough. Dave is special. Everyone respects him because he's the strongest. And Maggie..."

"What about her?"

"Maggie...she's special too. Everyone respects her, too, 'cause she's a healer. And she dinna even need to learn magic! It's not fair."

"I see." Horvath had never been one to care much for the needs of others, and Renee's emotional outburst was discomforting. He would have preferred a male student, had there been a choice, in order to avoid such annoyances. Morgana's ban on female apprentices at her compound had been a wise decision; he had to agree with Alvar on that point. Now he was teaching a daughter of Morgana herself, who would doubtless have been rejected by her ancestor. He sighed. Such was his lot in life.

Renee saw his reaction, and her green eyes filled with tears. "Maxim..." she began.

"Oh, no you don't." He backed away. "I remember the last time you called me that. I warned you, it wouldn't work again."

Now she was angry. "Fine," she snapped. "If ye willna help me, I'll find a way to be the best all by myself. Ye canna teach me everything, anyway."

"Maybe not, but I still know a lot more than you do." Horvath wasn't used to being challenged by someone less accomplished than he, and he didn't like it, not at all. His voice turned cold. "All right, if you want to take the fast track to the more advanced levels, we can do that. It won't be pleasant, and don't expect me to go easy on you just because you're a girl. Save your tears. You want intense, you'll get it."

She nodded. "Let's do it."

* * *

The household was awakened early, while it was still dark on the first Wednesday of Spring and a fine rain shrouded the manor in mist. Renee and a still-sleepy Ben joined a group of sorcerers, and Becky, outside the Blakes' bedroom door. "Wot's happenin;?" asked the newest apprentice. "Is it time?" No alarm had sounded, no messenger sent to rouse her, but she felt the excitement in the air almost palpably.

"Yes," replied her master. He was nervous, edgy as he waited for them all to be granted admittance.

Chandra was calm but happy, while Dave stood with his arm around Becky's shoulders, squeezing gently in anticipation of the forthcoming news. They had, all of them, gathered here by some unspoken summons, knowing the hour was nigh. They waited.

At length, the door opened, and a mass of red hair under a white cotton nightcap poked out. Maggie gave them all a weary smile. "Good mornin', everyone," she said. "Ye can come in now, but don't crowd. Keep yer voices down, too, if ye please." She stood back then and let the visitors file in. They entered in pairs to see the new arrival, then stood back against the bedroom wall to give the others their space.

Veronica was too exhausted even to greet them. She lay in the center of the bed in a nest of pillows and blankets, her husband sitting beside her with one supporting arm behind her. With his free hand, he tenderly stroked the raven hair of his newborn daughter, the wonder and ecstasy plain in his normally stoic face. The baby was resting in her mother's arms.

"Congratulations,"said Dave, not too loudly. His unrestrained grin spoke volumes more.

"Thank you," his master replied just as quietly, with a matching grin of his own.

Horvath dared to step forward, without a smile but with a longing in his eyes that only his fellow apprentices recognized. The eldest of the trio stopped at the edge of the bed, on the side opposite Balthazar, and gazed almost sadly at the innocent face of the child. "She looks like her mother," he observed. Nothing more needed to be said. They all knew how Horvath felt about Veronica, even now after he'd accepted her decision to marry another. This babe could have been his, he thought, if only...

No, he reminded himself savagely. It wasn't meant to be, no matter how much I wanted it. I had my chance, my _chances_, but it just didn't work out. Blaming Balthazar was pointless, he'd finally realized. No, he'd accepted the inevitable. Now this little one was proof, incontrovertible proof, that Veronica's decision was final. Horvath had to let her go, and trust his closest friend to keep her safe and happy. He lifted his eyes from the baby and her mother, to meet the blue eyes of the father. A single nod, and the ghost of a smile, were enough. He backed away to his former place against the wall of the room.

"So," Becky ventured, "have you decided on a name for her yet?" After months of suggestions, she was eager to hear the couple's choice.

Before the Blakes could answer, the door to the adjacent bathroom swung open. Alvar emerged, wiping his hands dry on a towel. Blood still stained the sleeves and front of his nightshirt; it would take more than a wash in the bathroom sink to clean the physician's garment. He seemed as weary as Veronica. To his patient, he explained, "I've cleaned up as much as I can. The maid should be able to take care of the rest later this morning. How are you feeling now?"

"Tired."

"Yes, I should think so. Are you sure you don't want Maggie to fix that for you?"

"I'm sure." Veronica had wanted to experience everything that childbirth entailed, the pain and the fear and the exhaustion afterwards, everything that other women throughout history had endured. It was part of the normal life she'd always wanted, the life that had been denied her for so long. Now, like the gift of magic, this gift of a new life was hers to cherish and nurture and share. Yes, the reward was worth the pain. The joy of holding her newborn was a reward that was worth it all.

"All right," her physician allowed. "Get some rest, then." He turned to the woman's husband. "And that goes for you, too, Balthazar. You're not fooling me: I can see you're ready to drop, too, what with all the intensity of the night."

"Yes, Master." Balthazar knew better than to argue.

Maggie returned to the bedside where she'd so recently acted as nursemaid. "Here," she said, "I'll take the wee one so you can both sleep. Don't worry; I know how to take care of babies." She lifted the infant as her parents reluctantly withdrew their protective cocoon.

The group started for the exit, but Mrs. Blake had one final message. "Becky!" she called.

The blonde looked back at her, curious, and now Veronica managed a smile. "We've decided to name her Agatha."

Of course, thought Horvath as they left the couple to their rest. What else could it possibly be?

* * *

Outside, Alvar went with his assistant to the nursery. He waited there in the room while she laid the newborn in the bassinet prepared for her and tucked the baby in. Maggie straightened with a yawn, stretching. "Mmm," she declared. "I almos' feel like I'm the one who gave birth tonight." She gave her companion a tired smile. "Still, Veronica needs sleep more 'n I do. Lord knows, she'll have little enough in the days ahead."

"You should know," he replied. "At least she has Balthazar to help, and all the rest of us, too. You had to take care of Ben practically by yourself. I imagine your sister wasn't a lot of help."

"Ach now, don' go puttin' down Renee," she scolded. "She did what I asked, usually. Ye can't expect a girl her age to jus' sit home with me all the time. It's been hard for her, livin' up on that mountain away from people. Give the lass credit for stayin' as long as she did."

"If you say so." He waved a hand over the front of his nightshirt. "Actually, I just wanted to thank you for what you did back there. Even with the oxytocin I picked up in town last visit, I was afraid something like that would happen." He was referring to the blood and its source. "Very likely, you saved Veronica's life. I've seen this before, and, well, it's never had good results." He stared dejectedly at the floor.

"Doctor." Her voice was soft now. He looked up, still miserable, to find her standing before him. "You've lost someone, haven't you?" she guessed. "Like I lost my husband. You couldn't save her."

"Yes." It was a mere whisper. He didn't say more, and she didn't press. Instead, she took his hand and squeezed. "Go back to your room and get changed," she instructed. "Then, if you want, you can come back and keep me company. You might have to wake me up again, though."

Alvar consented with a returning squeeze of his own. "I'll be back," he promised. He had no intention of waking her if she indeed succumbed to sleep in his absence, but he didn't tell her that. He would be content to simply keep watch over her and his newborn granddaughter. For the first time this long and harrowing night, he smiled.


	7. Bad advice

Baby Agatha, quite naturally, was the center of attention for the next several days. She cried little, for her mother understood her expressed needs and desires, and took pains to address them.

"How do you know when she's hungry or tired, or just plain fussy?" asked Becky. She and Renee had come for a visit before training started for the day. "Do you speak baby language now?"

"Yes," answered Veronica matter-of-factly. She was nursing at the moment, seated in a comfortable chair in her bedroom, a soft Kolinsky baby blanket shielding her torso, and Agatha, from view. "It's a very simple language, actually. She only knows a few concepts so far, like being hungry or wet or tired, and those are easy for her to tell me. I believe she'll be a sorcerer, too, when she's old enough. I sense the power in her already."

"Oh" Becky was a bit taken aback at this information. "I'm afraid I don't know much about sorcerer babies," she confessed. "Do they just pop up at random, or do they have to have magic ancestors? It has to be a recessive trait, magic, so I would think that two sorcerer parents stand a lot better chance of having sorcerer kids than just one parent, or neither, would. Does that sound about right?"

The older woman looked thoughtful. "I suppose so," she said. "There are so few of us, it's hard to find mates who share the gift. Even when we do, there's no guarantee that our children will share it, too." She lowered her baby to her lap and reached underneath the blanket to adjust her garment. Then baby was lifted again, onto mama's shoulder, to have her back gently patted. Veronica continued, "Balthazar and I were lucky–or blessed, if you will–to see our child inherit the gift. We don't know yet how powerful she is, but I suspect she's going to be stronger than either of us. It's quite unusual to have proof of sorcerer ability so early in life."

Renee wondered aloud, "Maybe that's jus' because you have the ability to catch it already in your own. Maybe other bairns have the power, but nobody knows it 'til they're old enough to say something."

"Quite possible," the new mother allowed. "Has Ben shown any unusual qualities yet?"

"Nae, I dinna think so, leastwise none that I've noticed. He's a lot like his dad used to be, loves going out different places, never wants to stay put for long. Maybe that's why he and Alvar get on so well. They're born travelers, those two."

Veronica nodded. Balthazar had been a traveler, too, for most of his long and lonely life. It hadn't been his choice, though; he'd had a mission from which there was no rest until it was completed. Merlin's castle had been the closest thing he'd had to a real home, especially after his beloved master Alvar joined them, despite the man's heartbreakingly crippled state.

Soon, a new castle would be built where the original one had stood. Then she and Balthazar, and Agatha, would have a new home, where perhaps Merlin's spirit still resided. She smiled at the thought of it. "Soon," she murmured to the babe in her arms, and the tiny mouth echoed her smile.

"So," Renee went on, "if both parents have magic, their little ones will likely have it, too, eh?"

Becky replied, "Maybe. Obviously, it's an inherited trait, but we don't know how important the degree of power is. Could be, the stronger the parents are, the more likely it is that they'll pass on the magic to their offspring. I mean, look at you and Dave. You're from the two most powerful sorcerers who ever lived. The magic was passed on through I don't know how many generations until it came down to you." She paused as another idea occurred to her. "Or maybe.. Nah."

"Nah?" The other girl urged her to go on.

"Nah. That's silly. I was just thinking, maybe it's a pheromone thing."

Renee still looked confused, and now Veronica did, too.

Becky elaborated. "Well, you know how when a bunch of women live together, their periods start to coincide? That's pheromones working."

"Oh!" Renee's confusion gave way to surprise. "You mean that dinna just happen with sisters?"

"Nope. By now, you and I probably start within a week of each other. We'll have to compare notes sometime.

'Anyway, I was thinking...What if the magic is sort of contagious, like pheromones? The more magic there is around, the more likely it is that it'll show up in a sorcerer couple's kids. Maybe that's why it takes so long to reappear after generations of non-sorcerer ancestors. It might need a little push. Just think what could have happened if no sorcerers intermarried with normal people. Well, if they didn't die out from lack of mates, that is."

"Speaking of mates," Veronica interjected, "how are you and Dave getting along? Will you be comfortable living at the castle with us, or would you rather stay here at the mansion?" It was awkward sometimes, mixing romance with their own and others' expectations. The younger couple slept in separate rooms here, and that would remain the case at the castle, too, unless and until they were married. Of course, that was mainly for the sake of appearances–Becky and Dave were both adults, after all–but it did provide a convenient excuse when their living arrangements were questioned.

"We're cool," was all that Becky could say. "I'm okay coming with you all." She thought about mates, and magic, and inheriting the gift. She wondered, what if she and Dave...? She shook her head. She wasn't ready for that, not yet. True, she'd given up her whole world to be with him, but that didn't mean she'd given up her ambitions. Marriage and family could wait. She had no doubt that Dave would be there when she was ready. The thought gave her comfort: she could have him anytime she wanted, her reward for abandoning all others.

A knock sounded on the bedroom door. "Veronica?" called her husband. "Is it all right to come in now?"

"Yes, we're finished," came the warm response. "Please join us."

Balthazar entered the room. He wasn't alone. A step or two behind him came Horvath, who belatedly remembered to doff his hat in the presence of the ladies. They stopped in front of Veronica's overstuffed chair. "You asked for me?" the eldest sorcerer began.

"We did." She nodded to her mate to continue.

Balthazar clapped his colleague on the back. "Old man, we think it's time you took some responsibility around here."

"What?!" Horvath didn't know whether to be shocked or offended.

A toothy grin mollified the insult. "That's right," Balthazar went on. "You've been so busy with your new apprentice here that you seem to have forgotten about the rest of us."

"That's not true, Balthazar, and you know it." He glared until his friend's unwavering grin registered. Yes, Balthazar _did_ know it. Horvath's eyes narrowed. "What are you up to, then?" he probed. "You're setting me up for something. What is it?"

"Just this." Serious now, Agatha's father took the baby from Veronica and cradled her in his arms. Peering over her to his fellow apprentice, he made his request. "You've been a trusted friend and brother to us since we were in our teens, Horvath. We spent a lot of years together before...things changed. Then we all got a second chance, and I think...Veronica and I think...things changed again, maybe not back to where they used to be, but the best they could be now after everything that's happened. We like to think we can trust you again. We'd like..." He glanced down at his daughter. "We'd like you to be her godfather."

Horvath was stunned. He, godfather to anyone, to _Veronica's child_? He'd given her over to the one she loved without thought of reward for his sacrifice. Once again, he'd underestimated this pair and their capacity to forgive. Balthazar was holding his precious burden out, offering her to one who'd been his mortal enemy for so long. He stood frozen...

...And then the baby reached a hand toward him. Her innocent blue eyes sought and held his, and she smiled. He stepped forward, unthinking, and lifted her as gently as if she'd been his very own. "Yes," he said. "I accept."

* * *

He was still distracted when Renee blasted him against the training room wall. She stood sulking in the middle of the floor while he gathered his wits, and his dignity, again. "You're not paying attention," she accused, and rightly so.

He answered with a powerful blue bolt of his own. She dodged it, barely, but the move did give him time to recover while she scrambled. He stood, at the ready once more. "Really?" he challenged. He pulled back one side of his jacket to reveal the daggers hanging inside. "Care to do some target practice?"

She backed down, but only in attitude; she still stood firmly where she was. "Er, not today," she demurred with a tinge of trepidation.

"Pity." He arched an eyebrow at her. Then, quicker than she could follow, he threw. Two blades whistled past the girl's ears, one on each side, close enough to slice the ends of her curls. They hit the stone wall behind her, then clanged harmlessly to the floor. A flick of the master's wrist, and they sailed back unscathed to his keeping.

"There." He was satisfied now, seeing her trembling in place. "Now that we've restored the proper respect, let's continue. You really can use some target practice, you know. You're fine with the big guns–cannonballs, you can call them–but your precision shooting can use some work. Then you have the close-range fighting, as well; hand-to-hand and bladework, not to mention assorted other nasty inventions. It never ceases to amaze me how many ways these humans have come up with to kill each other."

"Then why bother learning them?" his pupil wanted to know. "Humans can't kill us, can they?"

"Not if we take the proper precautions, no," he admitted. "Accidents do happen, though. Besides, even a human weapon in the hands of a sorcerer can be deadly. It's best to be prepared." He looked around the room. "Now, to set up a target..."

A small wooden table stood next to the door, on which sat the Encantus that Horvath had provided to his apprentice. He considered for a moment, then aimed the jewels of his cane in the table's direction. It rose. Simultaneously, the four legs detached themselves and lay neatly down on the floor. Renee's open Encantus settled down atop them. Unencumbered, the empty tabletop flipped vertical and moved at Horvath's bidding. It fused itself to the far wall, a plain square of wood little bigger than the dartboard at the nearest town pub.

It didn't stay plain. Horvath waved his fingers, concentrating, and a design began to take shape. Lines like charcoal emerged as if rising from below the surface: first a large round ring with inner and outer edges, then indistinct symbols that grew clearer as they shifted into place. Six of them there were, spaced evenly around the inside of the ring, leaving the center empty. Straight lines radiated from that empty space to isolate each symbol.

Horvath frowned. He was trying, it was clear, to finish the design, but it stubbornly refused to cooperate. He swore softly to himself before finally giving up the effort. "I still can't complete the circle," he complained, "not even a drawing of it." He had lost that ability when he turned against his master. Even Morgana had needed to force a Merlinian's assistance to conjure the Forbidden Realm. "I was hoping circumstances had changed enough, but apparently they haven't." Privately, he feared that they never would, that he would never regain what he needed, the primary difference between Merlinians and their foes. He sighed. "Well, we'll just have to put something else in the middle, then. Any suggestions?"

She shrugged. "Your hat?"

His scowl was withering. "Okay," she relented. "How about a star or something, then?"

"A star." He shook his head. Of course she would think of a pentagram. How very appropriate.

* * *

Balthazar was not pleased with the new decor. "Yes, I know it's just a drawing, Horvath, but it's still the Merlin Circle...well, most of it. How can your apprentice learn to respect it if you're throwing missiles at it every day?"

"Do you see any marks where the missiles hit?" countered the other master. "No, you don't, because it's protected. All that happens is that the symbol changes color when it's hit just right. That means she has to be using the power of that element at the same time she strikes. It's good practice."

"It's still disrespectful."

"Oh, come on, Balthazar. It's a teaching tool, that's all, just like the real one on the floor."

"It's more than that," his peer angrily shot back. "It's a reminder of Merlin. This was his invention. He taught us how to use it, but now you're abusing it instead. Have you forgotten those lessons, Horvath? It wasn't just the mechanical stuff we leaned. Merlin gave us everything he had, and that included the proper reverence for magic. Yes, it's a tool, but there are things about it we'll never understand. You shouldn't belittle the Circle this way, or Merlin either." He waved a hand at the target on the wall. "It's no wonder you had to put a substitute in the middle, with an attitude like yours."

That stung. Horvath turned away, angry. Pride wouldn't allow him to admit a mistake, but a tiny part of him echoed his earlier fear. Maybe Balthazar was right. "Fine," he snapped. The tabletop cleared in an instant, to be replaced with a standard archery bulls-eye pattern. "Satisfied?"

"Maybe." The tone was cautious, suspicious. "Is it going to stay this way after I leave?"

Their eyes met and held. It was an old battle, the struggle for dominance that neither had definitively won. Balthazar couldn't order his fellow elite to obey, and Horvath wasn't about to be seen as giving in. This had to be a mutual decision.

The older man broke the silence with a simple question. "Do you trust me?" he asked.

Now it was up to Balthazar. _Touche_, he thought wryly. Did Agatha's godfather deserve his trust or not? It was time to put up or shut up. He nodded, and Horvath knew he'd won.

* * *

"But why can't I watch?" Renee was a little hurt at her exclusion.

Horvath fixed her with a stern eye. "You're not ready," he stated simply. Balthazar had asked him to join this afternoon's training session with Dave for an advanced lesson on Morganian tactics. They would be featuring the illusion of Morgana herself, and the two masters thought it better that Morgana's descendant stay away.

Renee, of course, didn't understand. Her resentment, and her jealousy of her senior apprentice, came through in her reply. "Why is he so much better than me, Horvath? I'm a Prime, too, aren't I? Have ye been holdin' back with me? Am I not good enou' for you?"

He sighed. "Not now, Renee. We'll practice extra hard on your regular lesson this evening, all right?"

Her face showed her displeasure, but she made no further argument. Instead, she turned on her heel and left her master to his duties. Still angry, she searched the estate for someone else to whom she could vent her frustration. Her sister and nephew had gone out with Alvar, again, this time for a carriage ride to enjoy the lovely May weather outside. The doctor had hung up his shingle in town not too long ago, and his days of free time were becoming too few to waste. Chandra and Veronica were happily playing with baby Agatha and chatting about related issues. Renee was in no mood to join the older women: how could they understand what she was going through right now?

That left Becky. Renee found her outside, seated on a sunny patch of grass near the road leading back to the servants' quarters. Becky's posture was strange: she sat with folded legs, stocking feet resting upon opposite thighs, one upturned hand on each knee. Her back was straight, her eyes closed with head tilted back just a little. She was lost in her own peaceful world.

Unsure now of what to do, Renee halted in front of the living statue. She stood silently for a time, waiting for some sign of movement, but the blonde seemed oblivious to her presence. She was ready to give up and move on to mope on her own when Becky's blue eyes opened.

"Hi, Renee," she greeted her visitor serenely. "What are you doing out here?"

The younger girl answered, glad for a listening ear to hear her complaint at last. "They kicked me out."

"Who did?"

"Horvath, mostly. They dinna want me around to see Dave's training." The bitterness in her voice was unmistakable.

"Oh, well, I'm sure they have good reasons," soothed the other. That reply was somewhat less than satisfactory, Becky could see, so she tried again. "Hey, I don't watch them training, either. It's really frustrating, knowing there's stuff going on right in front of your eyes that you can't even see. I use the time to keep up with my yoga, instead. Want me to teach you? It's very relaxing. It'll make you feel better, or at least it works for me."

"Nae, but thanks anyway." Renee plopped down beside her contemporary. "I jus' need to talk to someone, if tha's okay."

"Sure." Becky shifted so that she sat more or less facing the new arrival. "Talk away. I'm listening." And so she listened, responding when asked, giving sympathy or signs of agreement when called for, but mostly just offering the silent support of being there.

"I don' like it here," concluded the speaker. "Nobody pays any attention to me. I mean, everyone else fits in. They've got friends or family. Who've I got?"

"Uh, Maggie? Ben?"

Renee dismissed them with a sneer. "Ach, they're always off with Alvar somewhere. It's like I don' even exist anymore."

"Well, there's Horvath..."

"Yeah, when he's not busy with Dave or moonin' over the baby."

"Be patient," Becky advised. "Once the castle is done, half of us will be moving over there. Then you can have Horvath to yourself, pretty much."

"But ya see, tha's what I mean. I feel like...I dunno, leftovers. Like I should be happy with the scraps, 'stead of sittin' at the table with the others. I mean, even you've got someone to make you feel special, and you're jus' a human."

"Uh-huh." The insult was unintended, certainly, but it still hurt. Becky sat back, her expression grown cold.

Renee noticed. "Oh!" Abashed, she looked away. "Sorry." When the other girl didn't reply, she leaned forward, still keeping her eyes averted, preparing to rise. "Guess I'd better go now. Thanks for listenin'." She sounded as if she was going to cry.

A hand on her elbow stopped her. "It's okay," said Becky, the warmth returned to her voice. "We all say thoughtless things sometimes."

Renee settled again and dared to look up. Tears glimmered in her green eyes. "I'm sorry," she murmured again. "It's just...I'm lonely."

"I understand." Becky smiled to show that she really did. Then her face grew thoughtful. "I think...I think what you really need is a boyfriend."

"Oh, no no no no no." The brown curls bounced as the younger girl shook her head. "I promised Horvath I'd stay away from boys while he's teachin' me."

"But that could take years!"

"A few, aye. Not that many, though, right?" Horvath had told her she had years of training ahead, but she'd never thought to ask how many he might mean. "I figured two, three, maybe four at the most, like university."

"Uh, no," Becky replied. "We're talking at least eight years, probably more, depending on how quick you are. Do you really want to wait that long?"

"Nae." A vigorous shake of her head added emphasis to the response. "I'll be an old maid by then."

Becky laughed at that. "An old maid?" she repeated. "You'll still be under thirty. Look at me. I'm in no hurry to get married. We're both young enough that we can afford to wait."

"But I thought..."

"What?"

"Well, I thought you and Dave... Do ye not want to... you know?"

It took a few seconds, but the older girl finally caught the implication of the question. "Oh," she said, a bit startled. "Um, where I come from..._when_ I come from, marriage isn't a requirement for that. In fact, most people think you're a prude if you wait."

"Really? People don' mind if you're nee married?"

Becky had to qualify her response. "People our age don't mind. The older generations still frown on it. Of course, we do have our own limits: we try to stick with one partner as long as we're in a relationship, and we still don't think much of people who sleep around."

Sleep around? Renee hadn't heard the phrase before, but she gathered from the context its probable meaning. Prudently, she didn't pursue that topic. Instead, she returned to Becky and her partner. "So you've already...?" Renee was blushing furiously now. "Never mind," she hastily added. "Nae my business."

"No, it isn't," agreed the other firmly. "Times have changed, that's for sure. But anyway, we were talking about a boyfriend for you. Are you interested?"

"Course I am!" There was no hesitation in her reply. "But I dinna want jus' anyone, and there's no one here who qualifies." That wasn't quite true, but the apprentice knew better than to say so.

"Well, how about if you come with us next time we girls go into town? Horvath shouldn't mind giving you a shopping break for just one day, right?" She winked with a conspiratorial smile. "You don't have to tell him what you're shopping for."

Renee nodded, thinking. She already knew she would find no man in town worthy of her ambition. Without realizing what she'd done, Becky had focused her companion's sights closer to home.

* * *

The Book of Incantations lay open upon her lap. Renee, sitting cross-legged on her bed, couldn't read much of the book's handwritten contents, or understand many of the illustrations, but the intent of its author was clear. Absently, the reader traced a path from one graphic instruction to the next for a spell that was still beyond her grasp. The last picture in the series showed Morgana triumphant over the twisted corpse lying at her feet. Her descendant wished she knew what the spell was.

She let her hand rest flat atop the gruesome illustration. Ambition, she reflected to herself. Morgana wanted to be the best, just like I do. And what's wrong with that? She lived in violent times, so of course she had to be harsh to get what she wanted. I can get what I want without having to kill anyone, thank heavens. I want...

Renee wasn't quite sure what she wanted. Was it recognition, the approval of others, even their adoration? She would never have that, at least to her satisfaction, as long as Dave and her sister outshone her. Was it money and all the worldly comforts it offered? Horvath had told her, and she had seen the proof for herself, that sorcerers had no need to worry about such things. Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted the love of a man she respected.

No mere human was adequate, now that she knew her own power. Even a normal sorcerer wouldn't do. No, he had to be a Prime, like her, and there was only one such Prime that she knew. Luckily, he was close enough to her age that they had some common ground.

She shook her head. No, she thought. He's taken.

Unbidden, another voice whispered in her mind; rising, it seemed, from the page beneath her fingers. The words flowed like sweet but deadly poison: "Does it matter?"

Her hand seemed immovable now, as if it had become part of the page upon which it rested. She sat frozen from the shock of the unexpected contact. It had to be her own subconscious desire, she decided, making itself known through the magic of the book. "Yes," she answered at last. "It matters." With her previous conquests, such an obstacle had been nothing more than a welcome challenge. Now, though, things were different. "Becky's been a friend to me. I know she's nae a sorcerer, but she's been really nice to me since I moved in. I canna do a rotten thing like that to her."

"Why not? She's only a human."

"Because, because...well, it's jus' not right."

The alien voice laughed. "You decide what's right," it said. "Power belongs with power. You and your chosen one belong together. But who is this Prime you've chosen? Is he another of my line?"

"Dave?" Renee leaned back, surprised that the other didn't know. This couldn't be her own subconscious desire, then, but was indeed another entity entirely. Could it be that Maggie was right all along? Hesitantly, she replied, "No, he's...from Merlin's side. I dinna know anyone but my sister an' me who're Prime Morganians."

A moment of thoughtful silence passed, then the whisper came again. "Ah, so Merlin had an heir of his own...and you want him now for _your_ own. How delicious." Amused approval came through clearly before the voice concluded: "Yes, take him for your own, child. The human doesn't matter."

"But Maggie...she won't like it. And she's a Prime, too, not jus' a human." Renee was growing a little desperate. She knew she shouldn't be listening to this, knew that it was leading her into dangerous territory, but she couldn't bring herself to terminate the contact, to pull her hand away.

"Ah, your sister," the voice clucked. "I chose you, not her. She spurns the power I would give her, but you... Yes, you accept the honor of your birthright. Use it, my child. Take what is rightfully yours."

The girl hesitated. "I...I'm scared," she confessed. "Maybe I should talk to Maggie, or my master Horvath?"

"No!" Vehement, almost angry, the other sounded, and Renee would have broken her ethereal connection if she could. Then, as if realizing its effect, the voice went on more smoothly. "They wouldn't understand, Renee. They'll make you stop learning magic because they're afraid of who you are. They may even take me away from you. You'll be all alone, Renee. Is that what you want?"

"I dinna know who you are..." She felt drawn, pulled down into dark waters that were terrifying but impossible to resist. Even her will to do so was fading away, and that was more frightening still.

"You know. Your blood called out to me, and I answered. I've come to help you, child. I'm your only true friend, the one who's sustained our line these many generations. You're the one I've been waiting for. But...I can't help you if you tell any of the others, even your sister. You have to keep this only between us, or they'll take me and destroy me. Don't let them do it, child. Keep me safe and secret, and I'll help you get everything you want."

Tears fell now from the green eyes focused on the book. The young sorcerer's hands trembled, and her reply was shaky at best. "Nae, I willna let them take you." She swallowed, then begged, "Please, tell me what to do."

She could hear the triumph in the whispered response of her mentor. "You want a certain young man, don't you? Child, you have the power to take him. Do it. Let nothing and nobody stand in your way. This will be your proof to the world, and to yourself, that you're worthy of your heritage. The blood of Morgana runs true."


	8. Advance and retreat

"Good job, Dave." Balthazar landed lightly on his feet as the gravity inversion spell broke. It was the end of a long training session, during which master and apprentice alike had been hurled upward, sideways, and every other direction until Dave gained control of the spell. Both were bruised, but satisfied.

Renee watched from her chair beside the Encantus table. She'd been there for every session since her conversation with Becky last week, except the next day when Horvath had again forbidden her presence while he assisted Dave and Balthazar. He had his reasons, he said.

Balthazar started for the door. "All right, that's enough for today," he announced. "We'll perfect this tomorrow, now that you've got the basics down without killing us both."

Dave nodded. "Okay." He watched as his master left, then smiled at his observer. "So what'd you think?" he asked. "Pretty intense stuff, huh?"

Smiling back, she tried to sound unimpressed. "Looks easy enough."

"Oh, yeah, right. Let's see you try it."

"Not yet." She knew she wasn't ready, and that wasn't why she was here, anyway. "I wanna thank you for letting me sit in on your lessons, Dave. It's really helping." She gave him an innocent stare. "Will ye help me with my science lesson now? I canna understand all this technical stuff." She appeared to be, and sounded, genuinely puzzled. The Encantus beside her was open to a diagram with labels and instructions, purporting to explain the mechanics of levitation.

This was Dave's forte, and the girl knew it. He studied the diagram briefly. "Well, sure," he replied. "But why don't you just ask Horvath? He is your master, after all. It's his job to help you."

She pouted. "Horvath doesna have the patience. I think he's forgotten what it's like to be jus' learnin' everything. You're nicer to me. You understand what it's like."

Dave paused, thinking. His own training was far from easy, but he'd grown used to it by now. Perhaps, as difficult as it was to learn under Balthazar, it would be even more so under a master like Horvath, who seemed to take no pity on anyone. Sometimes, help from a fellow student was more productive than a lesson from a teacher. Renee had asked for his help. He couldn't, in good conscience, deny her.

He glanced down at his watch. "Okay, we've got a little time before dinner." Afternoons in the training room were set aside for Dave and Balthazar, and evenings for Horvath and Renee. They had joint lessons in the morning. "After you finish tonight," he went on, "we can study some more in the kitchen, maybe. Becky can be there for tea and moral support."

"The kitchen? Not somewhere more comfortable? I'd like someplace...a bit more private, too. Fewer distractions." That ruled out the parlor, where the others gathered after dinner, and here in the training room; which, while relatively private, wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Um, how about the study, then? We can tell everyone not to disturb us."

"That would be nice." She smiled again. "Let's not take Becky away from her friends, though. I'm sure she dinna care aboot this boring schoolwork."

Dave hesitated. Something warned him against taking Renee's suggestion. He wished he knew more about women and their ways, but he'd always been too busy with his interest in science to bother with psychology. What harm was there in studying, after all? Surely, Becky would understand. It was only schoolwork... He nodded, finally. "Tonight, then. See you in the study."

* * *

She sat at the big mahogany desk, staring forlornly at her textbook with her chin resting upon her open hands. The nearby oil lamp threw warm shadows upon the pages, but she didn't seem to notice.

The study door opened as if by its own accord. Renee looked up expectantly; yes, Dave had come as he promised. She grinned briefly in welcome.

"Hi," he said. "Ready to study?"

She didn't reply, but instead bowed her head. Her shoulders rose and fell in a sigh.

"What's wrong?" Dave moved closer.

"It's so hard," she confessed. "I feel stupid. I'll never be able to get this stuff."

Her fellow student nodded. "Yeah, that's how Becky felt about physics, too. I helped her out, and I'll help you, too." He looked around. "But not until we get some light in this place." Logs were piled upon the hearth, but they weren't needed yet for warmth, not now at the height of Summer. Dave stared, and they burst into flame anyway. "There," he proclaimed. "That's better."

He turned back to the girl at the desk. She was staring at the fire, absorbed, it seemed, in fond memories. "Reminds me of home," she commented with a note of melancholy. "All we need is a bearskin rug."

Dave drew up a leather chair next to hers and sat. He tried to console her. "This is your home now, Renee. I thought you wanted to come here."

"I thought so, too. That was 'fore I found out how much I'd be alone. At least at the chalet, I had Maggie and Ben for company. Here, it seems nobody wants me around."

"Sure we do," he countered. "You just have to get more involved, that's all. You've been spending so much time training and studying, you haven't given anyone a chance to be a real friend."

She looked across at him. "Will you be my friend, Dave?"

"Of course I will." He smiled. "And so will Becky. We like you, in case you hadn't noticed. Now, we've got some studying to do."

* * *

The oil in the lamp was nearly exhausted when the tutoring came to an end. Renee's responses had grown ever shorter and less focused on the material at hand, until at last she sat silently while Dave explained his latest point.

"Renee?"

Her attention returned a little. "Hmm?"

"I asked you if you understood everything, or if you wanted me to go over something again."

She simply peered glassy-eyed at him. "Oh," she muttered. "Sure."

He shook his head. "You haven't been listening at all, have you?" He blamed himself: this wasn't the first time he'd lost his audience by assuming they knew more than they did.

"Dave?" She looked lost, which didn't surprise him at all.

"Yeah?"

"Why are we doing this?"

"Studying?" Now it was his turn to be confused. "Because you asked for my help. Don't you remember?"

"Nae, I don' mean that. Why are we learnin' magic at all?"

Slowly, he responded. "Because...it's who we are. I love magic. Don't you?" Was she beginning to share her sister's point of view? "You're not...you don't think it's evil, do you?"

A shake of her head answered the question. "Nae, not evil. Jus'...what's the point? We canna share our talents wi' the world, an' there's no enemy we have to fight. Why learn something if we canna use it?"

"Well..." Now that the question had been posed, Dave found it more difficult to answer than he'd expected. A Merlinian's job was to serve humanity, but that didn't necessarily involve magic. In fact, all the advances he could think of had been a result of a sorcerer's natural talent–for physics, engineering, or other discipline–rather than of magic. "You know," he admitted, "that's a good question, Renee. I'll have to ask Balthazar about that."

He stood. "So, do you want to try this again tomorrow?" he asked. "Studying, I mean. I'll try not to lose you again, okay? Sorry about that." He gave her an apologetic grin.

She rose as well. They stood face to face, and Dave found himself staring into the depths of a leafy green forest. She blinked, and the illusion vanished–almost. His hands were warm in hers, his face flushed at the warm invitation of her smile. When she spoke, the words were like music playing in his head. "Thank you, Dave," she said. "Yes, let's do this again. I need you." She released his hands, only to slide hers up to his shoulders. She leaned closer, and he recoiled just the slightest bit. "Becky..." he murmured aloud. It was a reminder to himself.

The brunette in front of him saw his reaction. How could she not? Her smile faltered, but didn't disappear. She pulled him against her...

...into a firm embrace. Relieved, he hugged her back. From below the curls resting on his chest, he heard, "Thanks for bein' a friend to me, Dave. It means a lot."

"Sure, no problem." It sounded contrived, even to him, but it covered his embarrassment. What had he been thinking, after all?

She looked up then with a grin mischievous as that of a nymph. She knew. Quickly, she reached up to give him a kiss–on the cheek, a kiss of gratitude or friendship, it didn't matter which–then let him go. "Good night, Dave," she seemed to sing. Then she was gone, and the room felt cold and empty without her.

The Prime Merlinian stood there for a while, until a tap on the door woke him from his stupor. Becky peeked in. "Dave?" she called. "Aren't you coming to bed?"

He shook his head to clear it. "Yeah. I'm coming." He let her lead the way.

* * *

The following day saw no improvement in Dave's state of mind. Not until Horvath ushered his apprentice away for their evening lesson did he feel free to confide in his own master.

"Balthazar," he asked while the others made their way into the parlor after dinner, "can I ask you something?"

"You just did."

"Something _else_."

Balthazar caught his young friend's tone and returned to the kitchen table where Dave still sat. "Sure. You've been distracted all day, I could tell. What's going on?"

Dave sighed. "It's Renee."

"Yeah, I noticed. I think she has a crush on you, Dave."

"You really think so?"

"I know, it's hard to believe." Balthazar grinned. "Amazing what a little self-confidence can do, eh? So how's it feel to be a chick magnet? Good for the ego, I can tell you from experience."

Dave studied his master more closely. Balthazar, a romantic idol? It was difficult to imagine, but then again, what did he know about women? "Are you telling me that chicks go for an antisocial dude like you?" As far as he knew, Veronica was the only woman who'd ever been interested in Merlin's last apprentice.

Balthazar shrugged. "Some women go for the mysterious stranger type."

Dave shook his head. "Well, there's no accounting for taste."

"Thanks. So now you can speak from experience, too, eh?"

They were back to Renee, and Dave was uncomfortable again. "Yeah. Thing is, though, I don't _want_ to be a chick magnet. I just want Becky."

"And you're afraid you'll hurt Renee's feelings if you tell her you're not interested."

"Something like that, yeah."

"Mm-hmm." Balthazar understood. "Well, all I can say is, break it to her gently. You know what they say about a woman scorned." It didn't help that they all lived under the same roof, either. "Maybe it would be easier to wait until we're ready to move over to the castle. It's almost finished; shouldn't take more than another few months."

"I don't know," admitted his apprentice. "I mean, on the one hand, I don't want to let her keep thinking she has a chance, but on the other hand, I don't know how to tell her. I don't suppose..."

"Oh, no." Balthazar seemed to be reading his mind again. "I'm not doing it for you. Getting a third party involved will only make things worse. Trust me."

Rats. "It was just an idea," Dave responded sullenly. He would have to do this himself, much as he dreaded the thought. Hopefully, he mused aloud, "Maybe it's not what we think. Maybe she really does want to be just a friend. She never said she wanted more."

"Sure, Dave." His master was humoring him. "Well, now that we've got that straightened out, why don't we go join the rest of the gang?"

The younger sorcerer was about to agree when he remembered something else. "Wait," he called to the retreating elite.

Balthazar turned back. "What now?"

"I forgot: Renee asked me something I couldn't answer. I'm hoping you'll be able to tell us." He repeated the girl's question from the previous day.

"Interesting topic," noted the older man. "Why don't we bring it up for everyone? I'm sure the others would like to have some input."

"Okay." Dave stood, and the two made their way to the parlor.

* * *

"Who cares?" was Chandra's take on the subject. "We benefit personally. Even if it doesn't affect society as a whole, it helps us and our friends to live our lives in style."

Dave shook his head. "No, that's the Morganian way of thinking. Merlinians are supposed to help other people, not just themselves."

The former Morganian shrugged. "You asked my opinion. I gave it." She resumed her embroidery.

Alvar wasn't much help, either. He, too, had been taught the Morganian way. Only within the last two years had he been striving to live on his own terms, rejecting both sides of the age-old sorcerer war to maintain his independence. His service to society was his practice, his natural medical aptitude; another example to bolster Dave's argument.

Maggie, for her part, was all in favor of discontinuing the training and practice of sorcery. "We don't need it," she stated with absolute certainty. "All it does is cause trouble."

In the middle of the floor, Becky was acting as assistant to little Ben, who was busy with his brand-new Erector Set imported from New Haven in America. They were building a bridge, entirely unconcerned with magic and its application at the moment. The boy showed remarkable skill for one his age: if it continued, he would make an outstanding engineer someday. "Just like his father," his mother fondly recalled.

Dave turned to the only other Merlinians in the room. Veronica, nestled at her husband's side with the baby in her arms, hadn't yet volunteered a response. "What do you think about it, Veronica?" asked the Prime Merlinian.

She was silent for a while, then softly began, "I remember. We–Horvath, Balthazar, and I–we built an entire civilization with magic." She was referring to their adventure last year, when the three elites had been stranded in the past, in the land that would one day be Manhattan. "We went too far," she continued, "and everything fell apart." Regret tinged her words, sorrow for the slaughter of the innocents.

Balthazar held her tighter. "It wasn't your fault," he reassured her yet again. "I know it's not much comfort, but something like that had to happen. Pre-Columbian America wasn't supposed to have the things we introduced, not for almost a thousand more years. We didn't know it, but we were creating a paradox in history. History was just reasserting itself."

Paradox...it was a troubling thought. Dave shifted a bit nervously. "And what about us, now?" he challenged. "Some of us aren't even supposed to be born yet, and others are literally in two places at the same time. Aren't we creating a paradox just by being here?" Would history reject them as it had before, with blood and utter devastation?

"Only if we aren't careful," Balthazar replied. "We can't meet or even contact our younger selves, which is one of the reasons we chose to move here to England, if you'll recall. The other requirement, from what I've been able to gather, is that we blend in with the world around us, or stay isolated like we've been doing. We don't make any drastic changes. As long as we don't pose a threat to the body of history we know, we shouldn't be treated as invaders to be kicked out by the antibodies."

Dave nodded. "Okay, I guess that makes sense," he allowed with some relief. They had nowhere else to go, should this world reject them.

From her chair in the corner, Chandra looked up from the colorful design taking shape on the circle of cloth in her hand. "I was out of place for twelve years," she reminded them all. "I wished I _had_ been kicked out, back to wherever it was I came from." She glanced at the ring on her finger, the one that Horvath had crafted for her after her return from exile. "I guess I didn't pose much of a threat without my ring, not to mention my memory."

"There, you see?" Maggie cried, triumphant. "Magic is nothin' but trouble."

Veronica spoke again. "But it's a gift, Maggie. We were born with it."

Before the healer could respond, Dave broke in with a clarification. "Well, technically, magic itself isn't the gift." They looked to him for more. "We can't do magic until we get an active ring or other transducer, and then learn how to use it. Even I had to start out with Merlin's dragon ring to help me."

Balthazar was smiling: he knew where his apprentice was going. He nodded in encouragement.

Dave caught the motion and returned it. "It's the whole 'entire power of the brain' thing," he continued. "It's why we have our natural talents, like physics for me and healing for Maggie. The gift is being able to access a world that normal people can't."

"That's right," Balthazar agreed with approval. "Magic is how we use that access, either for good or ill. Chandra is right in that it benefits the sorcerer and those within his circle. The temptation, though, is to use our power unduly, to impose our will on humanity. That's what the Morganians do. A Merlinian's job, as far as magic is concerned, is to keep the Morganians in check."

Morgana's descendant seemed to shrink back into her chair. Her face was troubled, full of doubt and confusion. "Then...Renee and I, and even Benjamin...what are we? Not enemies to you all, surely?"

It was Alvar who came to her defense. "You're not my enemy," he assured her. "I don't care what your lineage is." He took her hand and held it until she gave him a smile of gratitude. Even then, he was in no hurry to let go, nor did she pull away.

"So, the purpose of learning magic is...?" Dave wanted to bring the conversation back to his original question.

"Defensive." His master stated succinctly. "It's not so much that our magic benefits society, but that it keeps other magic from hurting it. As my own master has pointed out..." He gave a nod to Alvar, "there will never be a shortage of evil in the world. You and Renee are being trained as soldiers in the fight against those who would use their gifts for conquest. Besides, even if you never have to fight another evil sorcerer, you'll still be able to use your own abilities to the fullest."

"Yeah." Dave smiled and quoted, "A mind is a terrible thing to waste."

Only Chandra and Balthazar understood the reference, but that was enough. Dave had his answer.

* * *

Chandra, Balthazar, and Dave had a new project. "I miss my subway lab," the youngest of the trio informed them. "I built those coils and everything myself. I was hoping I'd be able to find some practical use for them before the end of my senior year, but that didn't happen. So I figured, why let all that effort go to waste?"

"What are you proposing, Dave?" his master wanted to know. "Do you want to rebuild your lab here?" He spread his hands as if to say, the training room is big, but it's not that big.

"No, no." A hasty wave dismissed such an idea. "The Tesla coils weren't going anywhere. Come to think of it, that's probably why Edison and Westinghouse were commercially successful with electricity, but Tesla wasn't. Anyway..." He gave his companions a conspiratorial grin. "I was thinking about our conversation last night."

"About the purpose of magic?"

"Yeah, that's the one."

"What about it?"

"Well, one of the things we came up with was that Merlinians' main contributions to society were based on their natural talents, not on their magic."

"And you want to use your natural talent for physics?" Balthazar was intrigued. "And, since you've invited Chandra to join us, you want to use her...um, ability, too." He paused to consider the implications. "Dave, you're not thinking of trying another time jump, are you?"

"No!" protested Chandra. "I'm not leaving. I like it here. I can actually function better here and now than I could in our original timeline. We're not so dependent on electricity for everything."

Dave hastened to calm their senior member. "No, no, I'm not talking a permanent jump like the one that brought us here. What I was actually thinking is that the three of us could try to create something we can control, a machine or something."

Chandra shook her head. "Dave, you've been reading my science fiction books, haven't you? There's no such thing as a time machine."

"Not yet." His friends still looked skeptical, so the physicist went on. "Look, we know time travel is possible. We're living proof. If we can just figure out how to create the components at will, and then harness them into some usable form, that would be a real breakthrough, wouldn't it?" He gauged the others' reactions: they weren't convinced, but they were definitely interested.

Balthazar rubbed his chin, musing aloud. "This is a little different from the advances of the past," he pointed out. "It requires sorcery, not just our natural talents, if the wormholes are any indication. I don't know if any machine could convey the kind of power we'd need. So, even if we did come up with something, it would be useless without the energy of a sorcerer. Still, I have to admit, I'm intrigued."

"Well, why don't we give it a shot?" Dave replied. "This may be the only time in history when we'll have the chance. Everyone we need is here, on the same team..."

Balthazar finished the thought. "...in a time and place where creativity is encouraged without threat of wars or government interference. Not a coincidence, I'll bet."

Nodding, Dave agreed. "Isn't it great to be free?" The conspiratorial grin was back, and now it spread to the others. The project had begun.

* * *

Renee, as usual, arrived promptly for Dave's class observation the following day. "Whatcha doin'?" she asked. This wasn't the normal active lesson she'd been expecting. Not only were they in the study instead of the training room, but there was an additional sorcerer here, as well. Chandra had joined Dave and Balthazar at the desk, where the three of them pored over books and graphs that seemed to have no relation to magic. Dave's Encantus was there, too, but the sorcerers weren't using it at the moment.

Dave beckoned to his fellow student–his shadow, he called her–and she joined the trio with curiosity unabated. "Care to learn a little bit of physics?" he invited with a smile.

"Ummm..."

"I'll keep it basic. Do you know how I got here, how my friends and I got here last May?"

"You came on a ship?"

"No, I mean to that day: May 4, 1924. You must have noticed certain things we brought with us, like our books, that come from years later. And some of the things we say, well..."

She nodded. "I know. I dinna understand it, but I figure you came by magic. What else could it be?"

"Magic, yes," he agreed, "but there's an element of science in sorcery, too. We..." He waved at the older pair. "We're trying to find out how to do it again without the drawbacks of the one known method we have."

"You want to travel through time again?" She wasn't sure she liked that idea. "But...what aboot me? And Maggie, too, o' course. You won't leave us, will you?"

Balthazar answered this time. "No, we won't leave you. This is for everyone, not just us. However, assuming we come up with anything that works at all, I suspect it will only work for sorcerers. Right now, we're not even in the planning stages. Right now, it's just the beginning of the research phase. It's still only a hypothesis."

"But it's a good goal," added Chandra. "It's better than letting all that training of mine fade away into retirement. I'm glad to have a purpose again."

Renee soaked it all in. This was well beyond her, she knew, nor did she have much interest in spending her days acquiring such rarefied knowledge. "Oh," was her only reply. A moment of silence followed, during which they stared at her expectantly, as if waiting for her approval. She ventured, hesitantly, "Um, how long do ye think it'll take?"

"Probably years." Dave seemed fairly certain of this, and the others nodded in agreement. "We can still do the joint training in the morning, but we plan to be up here for the rest of the day."

She searched her tutor's face, her eyes wide and pleading. "But Dave, I thought you were gonna help teach me." It felt like he was abandoning her.

He looked away a little guiltily. Did she know? Part of the reason he'd started this project was for that very purpose, to put some distance between them without being obvious about it. He couldn't bring himself to hurt her by an open rejection.

She was hurt anyway. Sadly, she gazed at the papers on the desk with their words and illustrations that might as well have been written in a foreign language. "All right," she finally conceded. "I guess I'll jus' have to bother Horvath some more. I hope he doesna get too angry wi' me."

"I'll talk to him," offered Balthazar. "We'll make sure he treats you fairly."

She just shrugged and left the trio to their research.


	9. The cat's away

The girls had rooms next to each other, in the wing opposite that of the bachelors. Thus, Renee had opportunity to note her neighbor's comings and goings when Becky retired for the night. She confronted the blonde a week after Dave began his project.

"A bit later than usual tonight, eh?" Renee said it with a smile, but the tension underneath was easily detectable.

"A bit," Becky agreed cautiously. "They were caught up in their research, and I didn't want to disturb them, so I just waited." Her eyes narrowed. "Why?" Dave had told her his suspicions concerning the younger girl, which put her in an awkward position between friend and romantic rival. She hoped to stay on good terms.

Renee shrugged. "Jus' noticed, that's all. I've never seen him in this wing, so I take it you visit him in his." She saw the other's face harden and hastened to add, "Not that it's any o' my business."

"No, it isn't." Becky's voice was icy, but her unspoken message was clear. _Back off, chickadee. He's mine._ Outwardly, though, she made an effort to alleviate the tension. She went on more softly. "Look, Renee, I know you're lonely. I'm sorry we didn't meet anyone in town that you like, and there's a lot to admire about Dave, but I think...well, maybe you're expecting too much."

"What do ye mean?"

"Just, well, I just think you're rushing things. It's okay to go a little slower, give yourself time to find the right guy. I mean, Dave isn't the first boyfriend I've had, but he's the right one for me. You'll find the right one for you, too, if you just have patience and keep looking."

Renee dropped her gaze to the floor. "I won' find another sorcerer in town, though, will I?" she asked rhetorically. "I canna respect someone weaker than me."

Becky was at a loss. What could she say to that? She thought, then finally responded, "There's more than one way to measure a person's strength, Renee." The green eyes met hers, and she explained. "There's magic, yeah, but there's also the strength of a person's character. That's what's really important."

"Character? I dinna understand, Becky."

The blonde stepped forward and laid her open hand upon the other girl's chest. "In here," she said. "He needs to have a good heart. It's not always easy to do the right thing. It sometimes takes more strength for that than it does to win a physical battle." Renee still looked unconvinced, so Becky went one step further. "Let me tell you a secret," she said. "Dave and I...we haven't." She smiled at the shock in her friend's face. "We figured, if Balthazar and Veronica could wait for all those centuries, then we could wait a few months or years, too. See, that's what I mean about it not being easy."

"But...but you said it was all right for people our age."

"In my time, yeah. We accept it. That doesn't make it right. In this time, society hasn't accepted it, and I can't honestly say that's a bad thing. Not all changes are good. Being here, with this group of people from different eras of the past, helped me to see that. It's good to get out of your own little worldview, to see things from other perspectives. It helps you sort out what's true from what you just want to be true."

"Wow." Despite herself, Renee was impressed with the human. It made her goal more difficult–not that it would stop her–when she had to fight one who'd earned her respect. "I dinna realize."

"Yeah." Becky stepped back now. "So just be patient, okay? You'll find your Mr. Right eventually." She entreated her neighbor with an earnest, "Think about it, will you? If you want to talk more about it, I'll be here...well, for a couple more months, anyway. The castle's almost done." Then, with a final wave, she smiled one more time. "Good night, Renee." She left the other girl alone in the hallway outside their bedrooms.

* * *

Alvar came home from work one day in a better-than-average mood. "Good news, Becky," he announced. "One of my patients knows someone who might be able to get you a studio."

She gaped. "Really? That's fantastic!" At last, her dream had a possibility of fulfillment.

"There's just one catch," he cautioned.

"Oh? What's that?" Her jubilation receded.

"It's in London."

Oh. She let the wave of disappointment roll over her, let it drown her for a time while she mulled over the news and what it would cost her to accept. "But that's...it's so far away," she objected, mostly to herself. "I couldn't commute like you, Alvar. I'd have to stay in town probably all week, and just come home on the weekends. Yeah...I don't know. Let me think about it."

* * *

"Go for it," Dave told her. "This may be a once-in-a-lifetime chance."

"But London? I mean, I knew it would probably come to this, but I was still hoping I'd find something closer. Couldn't we wait until I get another offer?"

"Well, you could," he conceded, "but it's not likely that anything will turn up. The big city is your best bet. It's where everyone goes if he wants to make it big, just like New York City in America. You have to go where the talent is most likely to be."

A pause, then: "Alone? You do want to come with me, don't you?"

He shook his head. "I can't, Becky. I'm sorry. I'm really busy right now, what with the project and getting ready to move us over to the castle, plus the joint training in the mornings. I just don't have time for a vacation."

"No time, or you just don't want to leave your tutoring student?" A trace of jealousy tinged the seemingly casual accusation. Renee had been working closely with her fellow apprentice during those morning sessions, much too closely for Becky's liking.

With a sigh, Dave repeated, "No time." He pulled her close, into a comforting embrace. "Hey, if you don't want to go, I'll understand.," he assured her. "But don't pass up this opportunity because of me. I'm doing what I love, and you should be able to do the same. I'll still be here for you whether it works out or not. And if it does work out, well..." He pulled away, grinning. "We'll take it from there. Okay?"

"I guess." She still wasn't satisfied, but the excitement was building again. "I'm not getting anywhere just staying here at the manor."

"That's right. I haven't been very good company for you, either, what with my late nights at the office...er, study, I mean."

"No." She had to agree with him there. "Well, I suppose it's settled, then. I'll leave as soon as Alvar gets a day off to take me away to London."

* * *

In the end, it was Horvath, not Alvar, who drove the aspiring studio executive to town. "London can be seedy in places," he explained, "and downright dangerous in others. A young woman, especially a foreigner, alone in the big city is just asking for trouble."

"So how is that different from New York?" she challenged him in return.

"Ever hear of Jack the Ripper?"

"Ever hear of the Central Park jogger?"

"No," he said. "I missed the years between 1929 and 2010. That little interlude in 2000 didn't last long enough to count."

"Oh. I forgot. Well, anyway, it's the same idea. I'll be fine as long as I stay in well-lit, public places, and I don't stay out too late at night."

"You'll be fine as long as you have a guardian who can protect you," he corrected.

"And who might that be?" She was still, after more than two years, a little afraid of Horvath.

He arched an eyebrow. "Come now, sweetheart. Who do you think it might be?"

"Not you," she declared. "You have classes to teach. Surely you'd rather do that than be a bodyguard for me." She would just as soon have a bodyguard to keep him _away_ from her.

Of course, he knew that. He seemed to take pleasure in tormenting her this way. Smugly, he informed his passenger, "Balthazar has agreed to take over training for Renee while we're gone. Dave and Chandra will just have to study on their own in the evenings. Besides, I've missed being out and about. London has so much more culture than the manor, don't you think?"

Becky didn't answer, nor was an answer expected. Apparently, she was stuck with her former abductor for the duration of their stay in London. To keep her spirits from sinking lower, she changed the subject. "So, do you think you could help me seal the deal on this studio?" she asked. "Only if I need it, though."

"I'll be your backup," he agreed. "You'll get a fair deal or none at all."

"Okay, thanks. Um, one more thing..."

"What's that?"

"People will ask who we are. I don't want them to think we're, like, involved or anything, and I won't lie and tell them you're my father."

"Easily solved," he replied. "I'm your Uncle Horvath, or Maxim if you prefer. It doesn't matter to me. You don't have to explain any further than that."

* * *

She was waiting for him outside his room. He saw her from the far end of the hallway, wearing the same blouse and skirt she'd had on since that morning and dozing, as it seemed, at the base of the bedroom door. He halted while he tried to think of what to say to her. Obviously, his attempts to avoid his admirer weren't working. There was no help for it but to tell her. He sighed and steeled himself for the expected confrontation.

She must have heard his approach, for she stirred before he reached her. Sleepy green eyes tilted upward, and she smiled. "'Ullo, Dave," she said.

"Renee," he acknowledged. "What are you doing here? It's awfully late."

She struggled to her feet, but he made no move to help her. Sensing his displeasure, the girl grew visibly sad. "I'm sorry," she told him. "I jus' wanted to see you, ask how your project is goin'. We haven't talked all day."

"We were together all morning, remember?"

"Not alone, we weren't."

"Renee..."

She waited, but when he didn't continue, she drew her own mournful conclusion. "I thought we were friends, Dave. You act like you dinna want me around."

"It's not that," he protested, though her accusation was uncomfortably close to the truth. "It's just...we shouldn't be alone. I don't want you to think..."

"What?"

Again, he found the words too difficult to say. _Becky, why did you have to leave now?_ he found himself thinking. _Couldn't you have waited until we moved to the castle, so this situation would never come up?_ He chided himself: blaming Becky would do nobody any good. This was his problem, not hers. It was up to him to deal with it.

Renee was waiting for his answer. Reluctantly, he gave it. "I wish...maybe I'm wrong, and I'm gonna feel really stupid if I am, but I get the impression...well..." He swallowed, then went on. "Renee, I already have a girlfriend. You weren't thinking...you're not interested in me that way... Are you?" He hoped against hope that he was wrong.

Now her look became calculating. She let him stew for a moment, then slowly responded. "And what if I am?"

He closed his eyes. _Oh, great. Now what?_ Not for the first time, he realized that even a battle to the death with Morgana wasn't the worst thing he'd ever had to face in his life. His choices had been so much easier then.

He felt a touch on his arm, and opened his eyes to see her hand resting there, her eyes searching, probing in her effort to read his thoughts. He was grateful then that her lessons as yet didn't include the mind scan, the higher level of psychic attack that was so much more difficult than mere hypnotic control. Even Dave himself hadn't reached that level yet.

"Do ye find me so repulsive?" she purred. "Aye, ye've hit on the truth of it. I want you. Is that so wrong?"

He wanted to move back, away from her, but his body refused to obey. It was as if her touch paralyzed his very will, held him there as she reached up to brush his cheek.

"We belong together," he heard, though he couldn't tell if the words were spoken aloud. "Can ye nae see it? Power belongs with power. Fate, or whatever, brought us together here in this place and time. There has to be a reason."

"No. I belong with Becky. She gave up everything for me." The protest was weak, which only encouraged the woman before him.

"You belong with me. Ye dinna love her, Dave. Ye canna love her. She's jus' a human. We're more than that." She leaned in closer. "Much more." Her lips touched his, tickled when she spoke. "Love me, Dave. Now."

Something akin to panic filled his mind. There, he shouted the first thought that came to him from out of the cloying fog: _Balthazar! Help!_ Meanwhile, his arms had a will of their own. They fumbled for the doorknob, finding it by feel alone as he saw only the green of a sunlit forest before his face. The door opened, and he pulled her inside the room. They fell to the floor together.

* * *

Her blouse was undone–only partially his doing–and he was desperately trying not to think. If he did, he would hate himself for being unable to stop. The self-hatred would come later, he knew. For now, the temptation was simply too great.

The bedroom was unlit, save for the dull glow coming from the hall through his still-open door. He could pretend this woman who lay with him was Becky. If he tried hard enough, he might even fool himself into believing it. Then he could stop fighting himself. He slid one hand under her skirt...

The room flooded with a sudden light, blinding in its brightness. The couple broke apart. Through squinting eyes shielded beneath the edge of his hand, Dave saw a silhouette framed in the doorway.

"Balthazar!" he cried with relief.

"You called?"

"Yeah. I mean, no. At least, I didn't think I did, but I'm glad you came." He didn't notice Renee, who shrank away in hurt and shame as she hastily buttoned her blouse.

"So," Dave's master continued. "Did you want me to leave you two alone?" His tone was carefully neutral. "I'll close the door if you do, so nobody else disturbs you."

"No! Don't go!"

"Dave..." Renee sounded as if she were about to cry.

"I'm sorry, Renee. This was a mistake. No offense, but Becky is my girl, not you. She's the one I've always wanted." He paused, but she said nothing. Her tears said it all. He felt small and mean as he finished, "I think...you should probably go now."

She gave an audible sob. She would have rushed from the room, except that Balthazar was blocking her way. "Let me go," she demanded as well as her broken voice would allow. "I never should ha' come here. Everybody hates me."

Calmly, he replied. "No, we don't hate you, Renee. Go to your room and get some sleep. We can figure out what to do tomorrow, if you want to talk about it then. Otherwise, this...incident...never happened. All right?" He remained in place until, finally, she gave a tiny nod of acceptance. Then he stepped aside. She fled from the room and out of sight.

Balthazar watched her go, then turned back to Dave. "Poor kid," he said sadly. "She's all mixed up and feeling all alone."

"Yeah."

"So, does Becky know?"

"Know what? This is the first time anything like that happened, and I hope it's the last. You showed up just in time."

The master nodded. "Like I told Renee, this incident never happened, or at least nobody's going to find out from me."

"Thanks. I appreciate it."

"Though I'm surprised you let it get that far."

"I...I couldn't help myself." Dave couldn't meet the other's gaze. "I didn't want to, I knew it was wrong, but...I couldn't stop. It was like I was under a spell or something."

"Yeah, the spell of your own hormones." Dave bowed his head even further, and Balthazar relented. "Okay, okay, I won't rub it in anymore. Self-control is tough, especially when you're young, and especially when the girl is willing."

"But you did it."

"Only because Veronica _wasn't_ willing, not until she got that wedding ring. Let me tell you, Dave, a woman like that is worth waiting for."

"So I guess I should appreciate Becky even more for wanting to follow her example." _Even if I'm the first boyfriend she's had who she's turned down. _That was their own secret, something that even Balthazar didn't know. Sometimes he wondered if it really was because she thought him special enough for her to save herself until marriage, or if she simply found him unworthy of her favors. Perhaps his response to Renee's overtures was due to his doubts about Becky.

"Yes, you should," Balthazar agreed. "And you should tell her so, too, when she gets back from London. Women like to hear that they're appreciated."

"Okay, I will." He gave an unconvincing grin. "Thanks, buddy. I'm going to bed now."

"Good night, Dave. You're welcome."

* * *

She didn't even have to open the book tonight, but simply hugged it closely to her bosom. Bitter tears fell upon the hands that clutched it like a shield of protection from the world. Renee had her eyes squeezed shut, an ineffectual attempt to stop the flow, but nobody else would have known it. The room was as dark as the blackness of an unrepentant soul.

"He sent me away," she moaned to the presence which lived in the book. "I wanted him to love me, but he told me to go away. What am I gonna do, Nana?"

The answering whisper was cold. "Why did you fail? You're a daughter of my line, and you allow a mere human to keep you from your goal? You'll have to do better if you want to prove yourself worthy."

Renee was startled at the harshness of this response. She'd expected words of comfort or encouragement, such as her sister might have given her–accompanying insufferable lecture about morality notwithstanding-but this shook her from the depths of self-pity into which she'd been steadily sinking. "But how?" she managed. "I would have had him, same as every human I've wanted, but his master caught us. Tha's when he told me to leave. Becky–the human–isn't the problem here. It's how he feels about her that I canna overcome."

"Feelings? Child, forget feelings. They're nothing more than weakness." Contempt overlay the words, and Renee hoped fervently that it wasn't directed at her. She very much wanted to please her extraordinary ancestor.

Trouble was, she had no idea how to do that. Timidly, she dared to ask. "But...if he doesna want me, then how can I claim him?"

Now a trace of amusement could be heard. "The same way I laid my claim to Mordred's father. It doesn't matter if you keep him: you'll have a new source of power to control. In the end, that's the only thing that's important."

"Power, Nana? Not love?"

"Of course. That's what you really want, isn't it? It's why you want this boy and no other, isn't it? Love is for the weak. Use it against your enemies, but don't give in to that weakness yourself. This Dave is weak, if he truly would choose a human over you. You don't need him, but you can still use him to create a stronger sorcerer, one who's under your control."

"You mean...?"

"When the time is right, yes. Time it well, for you'll likely only have one night. Be the one he wants, just as I was the one my brother wanted. Bring back that new source of power, child. Show me your merit."

It was all more than a bit overwhelming. Renee had always been something of a rebel, more so as her sister pursued her own path. Something in Morgana's plan appealed to her, something deliciously forbidden in rejecting Maggie's way. This was her chance to break away from her sister's shadow, to dance proudly independent and free.

The tears had stopped long ago, the hands loosened from their death grip. She laid the book down on her lap, then rubbed one palm lightly upon her abdomen. "How will I know, Nana?" she queried. "Will I have to wait for a month or two, then try again if it didn't take?" That was the weakness in their plan. She might be able to pull off the deception once, but no more than once.

"I'll know," the voice whispered again. "Through your touch, I can sense your soul, and I'll be able to sense a new one within you when you succeed. You won't have to wait; I will know. Choose your one night well."

* * *

Despite the absence of two of their number, the manor's residents kept themselves informed about the goings-on in London, both generally through newspaper delivery and specifically through their nightly telephone calls from the pair on business there.

The manor had one phone–such things were still luxury items, not yet in common use–in the parlor where the group gathered after dinner. As usual, Balthazar answered when it rang, then let the others talk in turn as they wished. Dave waited until everyone else was through. Chandra handed him the receiver, then went back to her cozy chair.

"Becky?" he began. When he had confirmation that it was indeed she on the other end of the line, he went on. "Hey, I miss you. How soon do you think you can come back?"

"I don't know, Dave," she replied unhelpfully. "We secured the lease on the studio–six months for now, just to see if it shows any promise–but we're still looking for staff and trying to line up musicians. You know, I was kind of leery about Horvath coming with me, but he's turned out to be a real help. The man knows business, and he knows how to persuade people, even without ...well, you know. I don't know what I'd do without him. Trouble is, this is such a new field right now, it's hard to convince people there's any future to it. I wish I could tell them what we know."

"Yeah, I guess the name Apple wouldn't mean anything to them for a while, huh?"

He could practically see her smiling all those miles away. "Not for another forty years," she affirmed.

"Well, I sure hope I'll see you way before then."

"You will, I promise." She continued, teasing. "Remember, you're the one who encouraged me to come to London in the first place. You really have no right to complain."

"I know, I know, and I still say you did the right thing. I'm happy for you, but...I guess I just didn't realize how much I'd miss you."

"Aw, that's sweet of you, Dave." She was pleased, he could tell. "I miss you, too, and the rest of the gang there. You can go ahead and tell them if you want."

"Yeah." This was no speaker phone, but the room was quiet enough that the others could hear the voice on the other end anyway. Dave didn't have to repeat it. "Balthazar says the castle is almost ready. Moving day is September first. That's just, what, six weeks away? Yeah, close enough. Think you'll make it back by then?"

"I'll try. It might have to be a short stay, though, just long enough to move all my stuff to the new place, if things start picking up here. Don't be surprised if Horvath and I just show up one day instead of giving you a call. It'll be a nice surprise for everybody."

"Okay, that's cool." He wanted to say more, personal things meant for her ears alone, but that would have to wait. Not only were both parties speaking in front of others, but he had no doubt that the operator was listening in, as well. They'd already given their unseen facilitator enough fodder for her probable gossip network. It was time to end the call, much as he didn't want to. "All right, well, I guess I'll just wait for a surprise. Make it soon, okay?"

"As soon as I can. Good night, Dave. Tell everybody else for me, too, okay? Oh, and Horvath says 'good night,' too."

"Night, Becky. Sleep well." He hung up, and his world turned a shade less bright. Life went on regardless. While Ben built an Erector Set cage around Agatha, napping on her blanket on the floor, his mother and Veronica engaged in their own conversation. Alvar, tired from his day at the office, chose to retire for the night. Balthazar led his second pupil away for her evening lesson, and Dave went with Chandra to the study. It was time to go back to his project.


	10. Dreams, love, and doubts

He was driving on the streets of a mirror world, racing through a smoke-filled tunnel with the car's headlights turned off. There was a passenger, but the person was a stranger to him. He–or was it she?–directed him one way, then another, from oncoming traffic to blind alleys to huge shattering mirrors falling from above. The car stalled and quit just as a garbage truck advanced on them. He saw himself controlling the bigger vehicle, watched as the other Dave pushed the lever forward to lower the truck's crushing arm onto the roof of his car. He couldn't move, couldn't escape, but could only twist frantically down. His passenger had disappeared.

Tank was there, where the other's feet had been, whining in fear at the coming doom. Dave reached down for him. If they were going to die, at least he could give his dog comfort in their final moments. Tank licked his face. Somehow, everything was all right then: no more panic, no regrets, not even the will to escape. He held the one who'd been his companion since childhood, and he smiled.

Someone was calling his name. Tank? No, that couldn't be. His smile faded. The voice was familiar. He listened, concentrating, while the pressure of the roof remained an impending but never advancing threat. His world hung suspended in time.

"Dave?"

Finally, it clicked. His eyes snapped open. Becky stood there by his bed, one hand still upon the dark hair she'd just been caressing. Her smile was enough to drive away the remaining gloom of night. "Hi, Dave," she greeted him. "I'm back."

He sat up hastily "Becky! When...? How long? I didn't hear you come in."

She didn't wait for an invitation, but seated herself beside him on the bed. "We just got here a few minutes ago. It's almost morning, and we wanted to let everyone sleep until their normal wake-up time. Horvath went straight to bed, but I wanted to let you know before anyone else finds out. We haven't had much time alone lately."

"Um, yeah, right." He was still flustered, still not quite sure if all of this was real. Indeed, he couldn't shake the impression that the woman at his side was somehow an illusion. Was he still dreaming? Maybe, but he welcomed her presence just the same. He took her hand–she felt solid enough, and she felt good-and smiled. "So, how's the studio coming along? Did you find someone to manage it while you're home? You didn't say anything about it last night on the phone."

Her smile grew even wider. "I told you last week that it would be a surprise. Yeah, Horvath got someone to babysit the place. It's not for very long, though; we have to go back in a couple of days. This is just a brief visit."

"Well, okay, I guess. We'll just have to make the most of the time we have now, then. I'm glad you're back."

"Me too. I've missed you." She held his gaze for a moment until he recognized the invitation for what it was. He gave her the kiss she'd been waiting for.

He expected her to leave him then, to catch up on the sleep she'd missed to make the journey home. Instead, she kept her arms around him in a loose embrace, her head bowed to keep from meeting his eyes. Her mood was suddenly more serious. "Dave?" she began, and he knew by her tone that this was something that wouldn't wait.

"Yeah?"

"You haven't said anything about Renee."

He shifted uncomfortably. "What is there to say?"

"Are you...is she still your shadow?"

"Um, well, we still train together in the mornings..."

"That's not what I mean."

He clasped her head gently in his hands, forcing her to look directly at him. "Look, Becky, you don't have to worry about Renee. There's nothing between us, okay? She's been going into town with the others on market days, since Horvath wasn't here"–_and since that night_, he didn't add–"which tells me she's okay with not being around me all the time. I think, I hope, she finally decided to look for someone else. As for me, I want you, just you."

Her blue eyes were sad, and still worried despite his reassurance. "But she's here when I'm not, and she's pretty, and she's a sorcerer like you..."

"It doesn't matter," he said, but she wasn't finished.

"And she's already told me she'll do whatever you want." She blushed as she made a confession. "I didn't tell Horvath this, but...one reason I wanted to come back now, without telling you first, was...well, to make sure you weren't..."

He guessed the rest. "Cheating?" She nodded unhappily. It hurt, knowing he didn't have her complete trust. He edged away from her without thinking. "No, I haven't cheated," he told her, though the words come out harsher than he'd intended. "I don't know what your previous boyfriends were like, but I wouldn't do that." _With one exception, almost_, he had to admit, if only to himself.

"Oh, Dave, I'm sorry!" Now she was frightened in a different way, afraid she'd offended his honor. She buried her face in her hands.

He took pity on her. Moving in close again, he held her next to his side. "Hey, Becky, it's okay," he soothed. "I admit it's rough on me, this waiting, especially since you didn't make those other guys wait. It's a little rough on the ego, you know?"

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I was wrong." She leaned her head on his shoulders. "You deserve no less than everything I have," she went on. "I don't want to wait any more."

"Becky, are you sure? Is this a good time...?"

She nodded. "It is. Today was the last day of my period." She looked up then, and there was no doubt left of her sincerity. "I need this, too, Dave. I need to know it's really me you want. Show me."

And he did.

* * *

A loud knock on the door startled him out of sleep. "Dave! Hey, sleepyhead, get up!"

"Wha...?" Dave floundered as he worked to untangle himself from the sheets. "I'm up!" he yelled to the one who waited in the hall.

Balthazar called back, "You've got ten minutes to get yourself to class. Don't be late!"

Retreating footsteps told the apprentice that his master was going away. Dave sighed and lay back in bed. Ten minutes? That meant he'd already missed breakfast. He groaned; it was going to be a long morning without his caffeine. Why, oh why, did he have to oversleep?

Then he remembered. "Becky!" He was out of bed in an instant. She wasn't here, of course. Somewhere in the fogginess of his brain, the memory lingered of her kisses and more, the sweetness of their first time together, and her departure afterward to return to her own room to sleep. Just as it had been when she first woke him, her visit was like a dream now, a fantasy daydream come true. He hoped the others had allowed her to sleep undisturbed when they discovered that she and Horvath were back.

Unlike me, he thought wryly. I'd better get a move on if I'm gonna be on time for the lesson.

* * *

It was an odd but productive morning. Dave was still tired, earning him extra zaps from Balthazar for being unfocused. Dave wasn't about to admit the true reason for his continued inattention, particularly in front of Renee. For her part, his fellow student seemed unusually happy, even eager to devote herself more to her lesson than to him. He tried without success to match her enthusiasm.

By lunchtime, Dave's stomach was steadily growling. He'd wolfed down two roast beef sandwiches already, and was working on a third, when he noticed the empty places at the table. "Hey, where's...?" He stopped. The London pair's return was supposed to be a surprise. True, he'd expected them, or at least Horvath, to be up by now, but perhaps they'd had a more exhausting trip than he thought. If they'd left London right after the phone call last night, having already been up all day, and they didn't get in until early this morning, it stood to reason that both would still be asleep. No, he'd let them make their presence known at the time they chose.

"Where's who?" asked Chandra.

"Um..." He pointed at Maggie's vacant seat. "I was gonna ask, 'where's Maggie,' but then I remembered." He grinned in pretended embarrassment. Maggie had taken to accompanying Dr. Masters to his office in town, to serve as his assistant when she wasn't busy teaching Ben his school lessons in the garden behind the office building.

Balthazar saw through the lie immediately, but for once chose to let it pass without comment. Instead, he waited until they were on their way to the study, allowing Chandra to go on ahead. "Where's who?" he repeated to the young man who walked at his side.

"Huh?" It took Dave a second to recall, but then he gave the same answer he had earlier. "I told you, Maggie."

"You're still a bad liar, Dave."

Rats again. Dave stopped, a little exasperated, and his master followed suit. "Why can't you ever just let it be?" he demanded. Balthazar simply waited, and his apprentice finally gave in. "Well, if you must know, Becky and Horvath came back last night–er, this morning, I mean–but I wasn't going to spoil the surprise. They're probably still sleeping."

"Well, that's mighty strange," Balthazar retorted with his usual sarcasm. "You'd think Master Alvar would have noticed if the other car were back in the garage this morning."

Dave gaped, thunderstruck. "That's right! I never thought of that!" He had a sudden urge to run outside, to check the garage for himself. Was it possible that Alvar and his companions _hadn't_ noticed, or didn't think to tell anyone if they had? It hardly seemed likely.

Balthazar shook his head. "They're not back, Dave," he said. "We can check their rooms if you want proof."

"But..." He felt like an idiot, just standing there open-mouthed. Firmly, he clamped his jaw shut, then nodded. "Yeah. If you check Horvath's room, I'll try Becky's. I'll meet you back here." He didn't want Chandra to know his probable folly.

Becky's bed was as pristine as it had been the day she left for London. There was no sign that her room had been used at all since then. Dave wandered back to the assigned rendezvous point, still stunned, not wanting to believe his own senses. She _had_ been here, only a few hours ago...hadn't she?

Balthazar confirmed what he'd already realized was true. "Not there, Dave," he said. "Are you sure you weren't dreaming? You were sound asleep when I knocked this morning."

"I..." Now he wasn't sure. "It seemed so real..."

"What happened? What did you _think_ happened, I should say? Did they talk to you?"

His face reddened, his embarrassment genuine this time. "Um, I only saw Becky, and...I'd rather not say what happened."

"Ah." His master nodded, and Dave inwardly cursed: why did Balthazar have to read his mind so well?

The older man smiled, which only made the younger more abashed. "Come on," the teacher instructed. "Let's not keep Chandra waiting any longer. I won't mention this conversation if you don't"

Again, Dave marveled. He'd underestimated Balthazar again. "Thanks," he muttered, and they continued on their way to the study. Sometimes, it wasn't so bad to have a friend who could read your mind.

* * *

The final phone call came in the last week of August. "Tomorrow?" Dave asked again, just to be sure. "You're coming home tomorrow?"

"Yep." Becky sounded tired but satisfied. "We've got the staff in place. It reminds me a little of the radio station where I worked before, only now I'll be able to hear musicians live."

"Oh, good. That's cool."

"Yes, it is," she agreed. "It's like a dream come true for me, Dave. You've got to come for a tour sometime."

"Sure."

"Dave? You don't sound very excited. What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He shrugged, even though she couldn't see it. "I was just hoping you'd be...well, more excited about seeing me again. I've missed you a lot."

"I miss you, too," she replied, but it seemed to Dave that it was an automatic response. "You're just not the only passion I have in my life. I thought you knew that."

"Yeah, I do, but..."

"We'll talk about it later, when I get back, okay?"

"Okay" He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he handed the phone back to Balthazar.

* * *

"I give up." Chandra slapped her palm down on the study desk, and Dave jumped in his chair. "You're just not into it tonight, are you?" she accused him. "I've had to repeat half of everything I said to you, and you're not giving anything back."

"Sorry," he answered. "I guess you're right."

"This is your project, remember," she went on. "If you're not going to work on it, then I might as well call it a night. I do have other things I could be doing, you know."

He sighed. "Yeah. I'm a little distracted."

"I can tell."

"Well, go ahead, then. You might as well go do something else. I'm totally useless tonight. Thanks for putting up with me this long."

She nodded. "You've forgotten how to control your emotions, I see. You didn't have enough Morganian training. Well, that's all right. Your girl probably likes you better this way, anyhow."

"I don't know, Chandra. I don't really know what she likes."

The former Morganian had no reply. However, she knew someone who probably did. She went to give Balthazar a message.

* * *

The master sorcerer sank into a red leather chair in a corner of the study. "Whew," he began, and his tone backed up his words. "That girl is pushing me to the limit, Dave. She seems to be trying to cram those two days of missed lessons in with the other four. I don't know if her goal is to impress Horvath when he picks up his teaching duties again, or if she just wants to catch up with you."

"Probably both," Dave sourly replied. He didn't want to talk about Renee, or training, or anything else. "You didn't have to come here, you know."

"Why, did you want to sulk here alone all night?"

"I'm not sulking!"

"Then what do you call it?" His apprentice glared, only to be met with a stubborn stare right back. Balthazar wasn't going to be dismissed quite so easily.

"I'm...I'm thinking," was the only answer Dave could supply.

"About tomorrow?"

"Yeah. So?"

"So, 'thinking' isn't going to solve anything. It's Becky, isn't it? You're afraid you're going to lose her, that she's not going to want you anymore."

Dave closed his eyes rather than let his master see the truth of it. Even that wasn't good enough. With both elbows planted on the desk, he hid his face in his hands.

The question was soft but shocking. "Do you love her?"

The response was instant, and not soft at all. "Of course I do!" Dave was glaring again. "What kind of a question is that?" He waited for a reply that didn't come. Slowly, the anger receded, and the doubts began. He remembered a night not so long ago...

"Ye dinna love her, Dave," Renee had said to him. "Ye canna love her. She's jus' a human."

Was it true? Was he so far removed from the world of humanity that the differences had become too great? Becky would always be vulnerable, always a potential target for sorcerer mischief just to get to him. That wasn't fair to her; and, he had to admit to himself, it was a handicap to him, as well. Wouldn't they both be better off if they went their separate ways?

"Do you love her?" Balthazar had asked. Maybe it was time for an honest answer. "I don't know," Dave finally confessed. "I think so. I mean, she's been practically a goddess to me since I was a kid. She was my unattainable idol, and...she kind of still is, in a way. I still want her like you wouldn't believe."

"Oh, I might believe," the other man countered. "I know about unattainable." They shared a knowing grin. Yes, Balthazar knew.

Dave relaxed just a little. Maybe, just maybe, he was glad that his master had come tonight. "Could you tell me...?" He faltered, then dared to ask, "How do you know when you love someone? How do you know if it's real?"

"Good question," his teacher said. "Infatuation is easy enough to recognize. Your goddess can do no wrong. You worship the ground she walks on, practically. She could ask you to do the craziest, stupidest things, and you'd do them in a heartbeat. You're like a puppy dog eager to please his master. That's your unattainable idol.

'Lust is easy, too. You want her, yeah, sometimes to the point of obsession. You might even have...ahem...certain types of dreams about her."

Dave saw no need to respond. They both knew to what the man was referring.

"Which leaves love. It's not co-dependance, it's not an addiction, it's not just a warm fuzzy feeling."

"So what is it?"

"Love is an action," his master told him. "Continuing action, to be more precise. It's knowing all the flaws in the other person and accepting them anyway. Don't expect to change the flaws if she doesn't want to change. Remember, she's accepting you and all your flaws, too. Love means forgiveness, as many times as necessary, even when you don't think she deserves it." He cut off Dave's instinctive protest. "Yes, you _will_ have arguments, and yes, you _will_ think she's just too stubborn to admit that you were right. She thinks the same about you."

Dave decided to shut up and just listen. "What else?" he encouraged.

"Well, I read somewhere.." Balthazar smiled, remembering. "Love is patient, love is kind, it's humble and considerate and selfless. It doesn't envy. Love holds no record of wrongs. Love is slow to anger and quick to forgive, and it never ends. Does any of that sound familiar?"

"Oh, come on, Balthazar. Don't start quoting the Bible at me now. You're starting to sound like Maggie."

"Hey, you asked. That description's held up pretty well over the years, you know?"

"Whatever. So basically, what you're saying is, you just suck it up, no matter what she does, right?"

"Not quite. The two of you are supposed to be in this together. Yes, it can mean you're willing to sacrifice everything for her, but if she doesn't feel the same way, then your relationship isn't going to work. You might have to let her go...and that's love too, by the way."

"Wow, you make it sound like love is no fun at all. You're making me depressed, actually, even more than I was already."

"Sorry, Dave. It's really not depressing, though; it's just serious business, that's all. When you share your life with another person–I mean really intimate sharing–knowing she's not going to reject you for being who you are, that's an incredible feeling. It's freeing. It's _good._ It's good to know you're not alone, that you matter to someone, and you get as much joy from pleasing her as you do from anything else in the world."

He was speaking from his own experience with Veronica, Dave could see. Yes, the Blakes were an example of love worth emulating. Slowly, he brought the subject back to himself and Becky. "So...I guess I won't know if it's really love until Becky and I know each other better. Then, if we still want to stick it out, that's a step in the right direction."

"Mm-hmm. I think you've already taken a few steps, though. She didn't have to come with us through the wormhole."

"True." Yes, she would have faced the wrath of the Feds if she'd stayed, and probably had her reputation ruined even if she didn't end up in jail, but still...

"And once we were through, she didn't have to come with us here to England."

"True again." Although she probably didn't see much of an alternative. Better to stick with your friends in a foreign country than to stay all alone in your own. The time difference would have made even America seem like a different country, anyway.

"Stop doubting, Dave," Balthazar ordered. "You're on firmer footing than you realize. She's stayed with us...with _you_...this long. There's no reason to think she's going to change her mind now. Talk to her. Ask her. And if, after all that, you decide you want to spend the rest of your lives together, that's when you start talking marriage."

"And babies."

"Yeah." Balthazar gave a huge grin. "And babies."

* * *

The travelers returned to a celebration. After more than two months in London, a welcome-home party was an appropriate way to bring them back into the fold. From the feast and then cake and champagne in the dining room, they moved to the music room to continue the festivities with dance. Ben, having never experienced a party before, enjoyed it more than anyone else, but no one was disappointed. Horvath delighted his five-month-old godchild with colorful toys and plush stuffed animals he'd bought for her in town. A small orchestra composed of estate staff members played for them all, and they danced well into the night.

The children, of course, thinned out the crowd when their bedtime required them to leave. Maggie took her son away to bed, which left Alvar without a partner. The doctor joined Balthazar by the fireplace, where the other man was also newly solo. "It's good to have a full house again," Alvar commented.

"Even if it's only temporary," his adopted son replied. "Next week, you'll be back to a half-house."

"Don't remind me."

Balthazar smiled. "You'll get used to it soon enough. We're only a half-hour carriage ride away. Meanwhile, you still have Maggie here. You've been spending a lot of time together, I notice."

"Yes." Alvar didn't comment further, but he was clearly thinking more.

"So, is there something you want to tell me?"

His master smiled back at him. "Not yet," he said. "Soon, perhaps, but not quite yet."

"I'm happy for you."

That elicited a chuckle from the older man. "I thought mind-reading was supposed to be only one way, from master to apprentice."

"Hey, I'm not an elite for nothing."

"Well, then, you'd better watch out. Your own apprentice is a Prime. He's going to start reading your mind one of these days, too." Alvar clapped his companion on the shoulder. "I think I'll call it a night now. Work tomorrow."

"Good night, Master."

"Good night, Balthazar. Tell Veronica for me, too, will you? I'll tell Maggie myself."

* * *

Dave and Becky were the only couple left. Everyone else had gone off to bed by this time; everyone but Renee, that is. Even the orchestra was finished, for the servants had other duties awaiting them come morning.

Renee's demeanor had changed since the last time Becky had seen her. "You seem happier," the blonde observed. "Are you feeling more like part of the family now?"

"Aye, I suppose," the younger girl responded. "Least, it dinna matter to me so much now."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Renee's green eyes seemed to glisten-with a secret, or with the effects of too much champagne, Becky couldn't tell–and her lips curled upward. "I followed your advice," she said. "I was patient, and I found my Mr. Right."

"Really?" Becky was surprised but excited at the news. "Who is he?" It wasn't Dave, she was relieved to conclude: the other girl no longer showed any undue interest in him.

"You'll see," was the mysterious reply. "Everybody will see, in time. I'll make sure you all get a chance to meet him." With that, Renee left the young couple alone.

Puzzled, Becky turned to her beau. "Dave? Do you have any idea what she means?"

He shrugged, as lost as she. "I have no idea." Then he took her in his arms and kissed her, a long and loving kiss that felt good even when it ended. "Alone at last," he explained.

She couldn't help but smile. "Yes."

He remembered his doubts and questions from the previous night. Now was as good a time as any to reveal them to his lady. "Becky, I've been thinking," he started, "about us, and our future. Together? You do want us to stay together, right?"

Her smile vanished. "Of course I do, Dave. Why would you think I didn't?"

"Well, I know how much this studio means to you..."

She shook her head. "Dave, I expected better of you."

"Huh?"

"You're supposed to be a physics genius, right? You know, one of those super-smart guys that make the rest of us look like morons. Heck, you've made me feel like a moron even before I knew you were a sorcerer."

"I'm sorry..."

She waved him off. "The point is, how come a smart guy like you can't figure out something as obvious as what I want?"

"Um, because you're a woman?"

"Besides that, I mean."

"I dunno. Maybe you should just tell me. What is it you want?"

Becky sighed and shook her head again. "David Stutler, I never thought I'd have to say it. All right, then." She reached up and clasped her hands behind his neck. "Girlfriend. Definitely girlfriend. And someday, Mrs. David Stutler."


	11. Biological magic

"Wow, it's gorgeous!" Becky stared in awe as the carriage entered the courtyard of the castle.

Beside her, Dave nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it is."

Dragon Castle, named in honor of Merlin's symbol of power, was built of red sandstone, with sturdy oak doors and colorful stained-glass windows set in their wrought iron frames. The courtyard was enclosed within a low brownstone wall, above which rose four feet of iron fence complete with lanterns hung at regular intervals along its length. Open stone archways topped with carved, jade-eyed dragons allowed entrance to the grounds beyond. This was one of the updates from the original castle, which had been built as a military stronghold rather than country home. Another update was the new castle standard fluttering atop a pole set in front of the building's main door. It bore upon it a symbol of nobility and protection: a silver dragon with glowing green eyes, grinning on a deeper green field inside a thin gold border.

Inside, the rooms were laid out just as they had been in Merlin's time, though some had been converted for different use. Candles were still the main source of light, whether singly, in chandeliers, or arranged in candelabra. Where torches had lined the old hallways, lanterns now hung in the new. Full or half baths had replaced the garderobe spaces and a few other spaces as well. Also, the additional nursery on the second floor hadn't been part of Merlin's design.

The Blakes had claimed what would have been Merlin's bedchamber in an earlier incarnation.

They saved the training room for last. The older couple grew somber as they led the way; this room, or its likeness, was the last place they'd seen Merlin alive. It was a few steps down from the hallway where the apprentices had once been quartered, or a full flight up from the ground floor. The latter, already visited, was where kitchen and infirmary were based along with the castle servants.

The older couple stepped to one side at the foot of the little stairway from the hall. Dave and Becky came to a stop beside them to take in the room in all its splendor.

"Wow," Dave commented in a voice just above a whisper. "So this is where the three of you trained under Merlin. It's kind of awesome." He moved forward, carefully, leaving his girlfriend where she was, and stopped just outside the design etched into the floor. "The Merlin Circle. This was the real thing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," his master confirmed just as quietly. "Merlin died in that circle. That's where he gave me his ring, to look for the Prime Merlinian...for you."

The room was silent then, but for the burning candles that gave off occasional crackles. Balthazar made his way around the edges of the room, inspecting the decor and remembering...

"Just two things missing," he declared when his inspection was complete. The others focused on him, curious. He pointed. "Merlin's Encantus used to be on that stand right there, and..." He turned and pointed again. "He had the Grimhold sitting there on that table."

"Oh," said Dave. "Well, I can fix that. Hang on, I'll be right back." He bounded up the steps to the hallway and disappeared, only to return a minute later with a small leather satchel in his hand. From it, he drew a tiny book and a plain wooden object like a unfinished, half-size bowling pin. He tossed the Grimhold to Balthazar, but strode to the podium to place the book himself. Once there, the tiny tome expanded to its full weight and size. He opened it to a page at random.

Veronica gave the final approval. "Complete," she announced. "Now at last, we've come home."

* * *

The Masters estate was a quieter place since half of its residents had moved out. The market day shopping trips became fewer, the parlor gatherings shorter. Renee, especially, showed the effects of the change: she lost interest in the goings-on of the remaining household, and expressed little eagerness even for their weekly visits to the castle. She frequently missed breakfast, claiming illness, which prompted an unsolicited visit from her older sister late one Saturday morning.

Maggie knocked first. When she received no response, she knocked again, harder, and called her sister's name.

"Go away." The order was petulant, like that of an unhappy child.

Maggie shook her head. She wouldn't be put off so easily. She reached for the doorknob, openly disregarding the command, only to find it locked. She frowned. "I didn't know your bedroom door had a lock," she called to the girl inside.

"It doesn't. I'm keeping you out myself. That's what you get for not using magic."

With a frown, Maggie gave up the effort. "Fine," she conceded, "but things like this only reinforce my opinion. I'm liking this magic business less and less." She turned on her heel and left, still irked.

Alvar was waiting for her back in the parlor with Ben. "Well?" he asked.

"She locked me out. This wouldna happen if she didna have that...that cursed ring."

He nodded. "All right. I'll take care of it, then. She may be a Prime, but I've had years more experience than she has. She can't keep me out just yet."

Alvar was as good as his word. Instead of trying to force the doorknob to turn, he simply detached the hinges and folded the barrier like an accordion toward the unmoving knob. He stepped through the opening, allowing it to close behind him, to find a very annoyed Renee sitting up in bed.

"What're ye doin' here?" she demanded. "My sister sent ye, didn't she?"

"Actually, it was my idea. I asked her first to make sure you were awake and decent."

She scowled. "Why? What d'ye want?"

He chose to ignore her bad temper. "Renee, I'm a physician," he reminded her, as if she didn't know. "How long did you think you could hide it?"

"Hide what?" She knew, or at least she suspected, what it was to which he referred. However, she wasn't about to admit it outright. There was still a small chance that she was wrong.

"Who's the father?"

Renee felt the sudden flush in her cheeks. She looked away from her unwelcome visitor. "Just...just a boy I met in town," she muttered. "Two months ago, while Master Horvath was away in London." Now that her goal of conception was accomplished, she had no further use for the father. This baby was hers alone, to rear and control as she saw fit. As such, she saw no need to reveal her partner's identity or give him a claim of authority.

"Uh-huh." The doctor clearly didn't believe her, but he didn't press...yet. "Does Horvath know?"

She shook her head. "I dinna think so. Least, I haven't told him, and he hasna said anythin' to me." Now she turned her pleading eyes full on the physician. "You willna tell him, will ye? I promised I'd stay away from boys while I was training."

Incredulous, Alvar approached the bed. "You can't keep it a secret much longer," he pointed out. "He's going to find out sooner or later–sooner, I hope, for the baby's sake–and it's going to affect your training."

"I know." She was sullen again. Almost unconsciously, she crossed her arms protectively in front of her abdomen. "Just...let me be the one to tell him, awright?"

"All right," he agreed, "for now. I'm more concerned with your health, and the health of your baby. Let's go ahead and do your first checkup while I'm here. That's really what I came for."

* * *

Horvath was not happy to hear the news. "You're _what_?" he thundered at the girl cowering beside her Encantus. She cringed, but saw no need to repeat herself. She simply waited for him to accept it and move on from there.

Horvath was far from that point at the moment. He strode to and fro in the training room, glaring at her from time to time between successive dagger throws dead center of the wall target. Violent blue bolts from his cane lit up the room for occasional emphasis: somehow, though, the bolts never struck her. Angry as he was, Renee's master still kept control.

"You promised me!" he reminded her again. "I want to know everything, you said. You didn't want to learn at the normal pace, so I speeded things up for you. We were just starting to get into the more advanced territory, and now you go and pull this! Why, girl? Why would you do this to me?"

"I told you, I canna help myself!" she squeaked, her voice tight with fear. "You were away, an' Balthazar was goin' too easy on me. I wasn't learnin' as fast as I wanted, with you gone, so I..."

He interrupted. "So you went back to your old man-hunting ways! You don't need a rich husband now, but you still wanted your plaything! You just couldn't control your appetite, could you?"

"I was bored!"

"That's no excuse! You promised!

"I'm sorry!" She buried her face in her hands. Her master might be able to tell by her voice that she was crying, but he wouldn't see her tears, not if she could help it.

He stopped his pacing and peered coldly at his apprentice. "Well, girl, it looks like you weren't all that serious about learning magic, after all. We can continue for a while, but it will have to be restricted to the safer areas–no more extreme physical stress, and a lot slower pace learning the mental exercises." He shook his head in disgust. "Morgana was right: women are too weak to be trusted with sorcerer training."

_That's not fair_, she wanted to tell him, but her throat was too tight for speech. _I'll prove you wrong someday, Horvath. I'm gonna be stronger than you or anybody else. With this baby, and Nana's guidance, I'll have the power to show you all._ For now, though, she still needed her teacher. She wiped her eyes dry, then looked up to meet his angry stare. She forced the words out: "Whatever you think is best, Master."

* * *

The castle residents remained unaware of the news until the following afternoon, when they welcomed their visitors from the Masters estate. As usual, both carriages were used for transport. Horvath, in the driver's seat of his carriage, pointedly ignored the young brunette on the padded bench behind him. Chandra, beside the girl, remained neutral on the issue of what Renee had done. She served as a steady companion to the others, supporter or mediator as needed.

"So what's this big secret you've been keeping?" Balthazar asked as he helped the ladies down from their vehicle. Horvath hadn't bothered to act the gentleman today, instead abandoning his passengers to greet Veronica and his godchild. The castle's owner continued. "Is there some reason you couldn't tell us on the phone last night?"

Renee avoided his gaze, and his question, but her older companion replied, "Yes. This is something that's better to reveal in person."

"Sounds serious. Well, come on inside, then." Balthazar stood aside to allow the women past. He watched them go, a careful observer, then hurried to the other visiting trio.

"Master, what's going on?" he asked. Without waiting for an answer, he glanced down at the child fidgeting near his mother. "Hi, Ben. Have you been behaving yourself?"

The boy nodded. "Uh-huh." He looked to Maggie for confirmation, and she gave him a wan smile of agreement. "Can I go play now?" he dared to ask the adults. Besides the upstairs nursery, Dragon Castle had another update which would have been entirely out of place in Merlin's original stronghold: a kindergarten at the rear of the building, opening onto a walled-in garden and playground just outside. This was where the children of the castle servants stayed while their parents were busy with their duties. Agatha would join them when she was old enough.

"Yes, Ben," said his mother. "Be good."

"Yay!" He was gone in an instant.

Balthazar smiled after him. "Well, at least somebody's happy," he noted. "Let's see if we can't cheer up everyone else this afternoon, too, okay?"

Alvar tried to let the encouragement work, both on him and on the woman at his side. Maggie was still upset after her row with her sister last night, and her time at the chapel this morning had done little to alleviate her tension. He put an arm around her shoulders and gently squeezed. Together, they followed Balthazar inside.

* * *

"It's probably just as well," Horvath allowed when everyone had been brought up to date. They were gathered in the dining hall of the castle, which also served as a meeting room when needed. Like that day long ago when the Merlinians of Britain had met to plan their attack on Morgana's compound, so this company today felt the weight of impending conflict. Fortunately, the expected end result would be life instead of death.

Horvath's apprentice stared at him, curious. "Why d'ye say that?" she asked. After his tirade yesterday, she'd been dreading the reaction of the others when he told them. However, her master seemed to have calmed since then. He still wasn't happy with her, but she hadn't anticipated this willingness to work within their new limits. He almost sounded relieved: an impression that caused Renee as much irritation as it did worry. He found her unworthy of his time and teaching effort, it was clear, despite her inherited power.

"Because," he replied, trying to be patient with limited success, "I have other duties now. Miss Barnes and I will need to be spending a lot more time in London, now that we have a studio to run. In fact, we should be getting back there very soon. I wouldn't be able to teach you properly, even if you weren't...uh, compromised."

"Oh." Horvath was right, of course. "But then, who's gonna teach me while you're away? It's nae so easy now since we're split up into different houses. Even if we weren't, Balthazar's busy with Dave and Chandra, doin' their research, and the doctor has his own work in town."

"Not always," Chandra broke in. "I only come here twice a week, besides these visits with everybody on weekends. I don't mind teaching you on the days when I stay home."

For once, Renee had enough tact to keep her instant rebuff to herself. She pretended instead to consider the older woman's offer. Chandra was a sorcerer, true, not a mere human, but she wasn't even on a par with Alvar, the other normal sorcerer in their midst. Her negative energy field was a handicap not just for herself, but for anyone she might try to teach about magic that used electricity–like plasma bolts. "I dunno..." Renee murmured at last. "I'd kinda like someone who's there every day."

A sudden thought occurred to her. "Veronica!" she cried, glancing across the table at the only other sorcerer available. "Maybe I could stay here..."

"I'm sorry," Mrs. Blake responded. She laid a hand atop that of the disappointed girl. "It's not that I don't want to," she continued. "It's just that Balthazar and the others are using the training room. Their research is starting to yield some interesting results, and they need that room for their experiments. Even I don't go in there now, since we don't know how it would affect my body. Once Agatha is weaned, maybe I can risk it, but not until then."

"So it's me or nobody," Chandra declared. "I trained the original owner of that ring you're wearing, and I helped to train Dave here, too, when Balthazar was away. I do know what I'm doing. Take my offer or leave it, I don't really care."

Renee sat and stewed for a minute. She had little choice. Finally, she decided and gave their senior member a nod. "I'll take it," she said. "I'm sorry if I sounded ungrateful, Chandra. Thank you."

* * *

They filed upstairs to the training room entrance. There, Alvar couldn't help but smile. "Looks like your old lab, Dave," he commented.

"Yeah, a little," the younger sorcerer agreed.

This, the fourth weekend at their new residence, might have seemed years to someone who didn't know. Gone was any trace of the pristine showcase that the room had once been. It had seen heavy usage, and it showed.

The empty Grimhold shared its table now with racks of vials and test tubes, a microscope and journal and a small storage case for slides. Under the table were display boxes filled with various gems and metals, sitting beside an unmarked wooden chest in which were more supplies. The table area had been the first to be utilized when the new owners moved in; not so much for chemistry, as none of the three had specialized knowledge in that field, but mostly for alchemy, which was taught as a basic tool to every sorcerer, Merlinian and Morganian alike.

In an adjacent corner, Chandra had installed what she fondly termed her electric chair. Despite its concessions to comfort–it looked like a modified, reclined hairstylist's chair bolted to the floor–it was still a foreboding sight. The chair was equipped with leather straps for wrists and ankles, a wide belt for the occupant's midriff, and a silver helmet at the end of a movable arm which would lower it into place. The chair arms and footrest gleamed of silver, as well. The apparatus was for research and experimentation, all with the subject's consent, but it could hold a human captive just as easily, or a sorcerer deprived of his power. No one except Chandra felt secure enough to sit there.

All of this, however, the visitors had seen before on previous trips to the castle. Today, something new caught and held their attention. The Merlin Circle was surrounded, fenced inside a chain-link hexagon that stretched eight feet high and required the furnishings around it to be moved back in order to make a clear path. Twin gates were set into opposite walls of the fence, and full-length mirrors hung upon the other four, both inside the fence and out. Upon the Circle itself, a tall pole wrapped tightly inside a single metal coil stood at the center of a clear domed cylinder. It covered the Mind domain.

Dave lifted one hand, and the pole in its coil lit up. Blue energy streaked from the base to the top, where it erupted like a geyser, hit the dome above it, and cascaded down the sides of the cylinder. It flowed from there in streams, back to the base and up again to form an endless circuit.

"What is it?" asked Renee.

"My battery," the physicist explained proudly. "I can make it faster..." The crackling increased its pitch as the flow speeded up, then deepened again when Dave slowed it down. "Stronger..." he continued, and the blue glow brightened to a blinding white. "Or change its direction." The white light narrowed to one side of the cylinder before its master sent it spinning slowly around the pole.

Balthazar, along with everyone else, had to shield his eyes when the light shone fully on the group. He shut down the battery with a wave. "Sorry, Dave," he said into the momentary blackness of the room. "You've made your point, though. You've fine-tuned your control of electricity, in this case a Tesla bolt."

"Yeah, and I could've kept it going, too," his apprentice retorted, just a little miffed. "In fact, the whole reason we have that cylinder there is to keep it contained. I can make it as extensive as I want, but it can be really damaging if I let it take up the whole room."

"But what does it do?" Renee pressed, undeterred.

"It's...it's a power source," explained the battery's creator, his pride somewhat tempered by her obvious lack of appreciation for his accomplishment. "I have to feed it an initial burst of energy, but after that, it just needs low-level maintenance to keep going. Any sorcerer can do that much. If we can find a way to tap into it, we're hoping it will amplify our natural power, maybe even our combined power. That seems to be one of the requirements for a wormhole: more power than any of us can wield on our own. The other two requirements–the chemical reactions in my body when I experience certain feelings, and the way Chandra's bioelectric field responds–are the two poles, or anodes, that turn the battery's raw power into something useful. That's the theory, anyway. And, since it's manmade–well, sorcerer-made-, we can control it, so we don't have to worry about getting pulled in."

"Um, okay..."

"Why do you have it over the Mind symbol?" asked Alvar. "Isn't the Forbidden Realm even stronger?"

"Yeah, it is," Dave admitted. "Trouble is, all the other domains make us sick, and the Forbidden one is the worst of all. We're not sure why, but it seems like 'Mind' is the only domain that lets the battery work right. It even sounds different. Want a demonstration?"

"No!" Veronica hastily replied. "The sickness doesn't just affect the people in this room. I've felt it all the way down by the playground, and so has Agatha. We don't know yet how extensive the range is, but it's at least wide enough to encompass the entire castle. Please, no demonstrations."

"All right." Dave focused on his fellow apprentice again. "It probably wouldn't be a good idea, anyway, what with you being sick so much already."

"Right," she agreed. "And what about the mirrors? Why are they here?"

"Two reasons: one, we're testing everything inside the mirror world, too, to see if we can find out anything useful; and two, we think they act as an energy barrier between what's inside the Circle and what isn't. Obviously, they don't keep people from getting sick if the battery's in the wrong domain, but that might be just because it's only a partial barrier. We're keeping them in place for the time being. We figure it couldn't hurt."

"Ah." Renee was staring at the inert battery inside its protective shield, her mind puzzling over it and how it could possibly be used. She would have to ask her mentor about it tonight, and maybe get what information she could from her newly appointed teacher Chandra. Perhaps this arrangement wouldn't be so bad, after all.

* * *

"I don't know," the familiar presence answered. "I never heard of such a thing."

Renee's hand rested easily on the open Spell Book on her lap. She was coming to depend upon these contacts, kept secret from humans and her fellow sorcerers, even her sister Maggie..._especially_ from Maggie. Horvath was her master, the others her sometime teachers and allies, but Nana was her mentor, the one whose opinion really mattered. Renee would do anything to please her.

"But you know about the Circle realms," she mused. "Even if all this battery stuff is new to you, maybe ye can help me figure out how it works in the different realms. Why is 'Mind' the on'y one that works right?"

A low chuckle filled her mind, though the room remained silent. "Because," said the spirit, "that's where it all begins. This 'wormhole' you describe starts with a state of mind."

"Yes, but it needs emotion. Shouldn't the Forbidden Realm be the right one?"

"The Forbidden Realm deals with life and death. It uses emotion for that, not for creating a disturbance in space and time."

"So tha's why people get sick when the battery's there?"

"Perhaps. I need to know more. Wait, child. We have time. Let them continue their experiments. You have your own goals to fulfill."

"Yes..." Renee smiled and thought of the child growing within. The boy would be powerful indeed: Nana had assured her of that. His father had created a source of power that would someday rival his battery. _But I control this source_, she thought. _I'm going to be stronger than anyone else, even the Prime Merlinian._ "You're going to be proud of me, Nana," she said. "I jus' wish you could be here, in person, to see it."

"Yes, so do I," the ghostly voice whispered. "My book is my gateway to you, my heir, but only when we're in contact. It's been far longer than I anticipated when I shielded it; centuries longer. I've missed a great deal in that time. I would come to you now if I could, but I'm trapped somewhere, in a dark place with no escape."

"Inside the book?" asked Renee doubtfully.

"No..." The voice grew uncertain. "It feels different. I don't know what happened between the time I shielded the book and the day I first spoke to you, but things have changed. I don't think I have a body anymore, no other place for my spirit to go. I can't rejoin body and soul."

"The Grimhold, then. It has tae be, but how...?" The little doll at the castle was empty. The other, younger version in America still held the souls of both Morgana and Veronica.

"You speak in riddles, child. I know nothing of this Grimhold. This part of me, the part that I sealed with the book, should have led us back to what I left behind. I should be speaking to you from my own body, with full memory of everything that happened since the sealing. Since that isn't the case, I can only conclude that my body has been destroyed. The rest of my consciousness; are you saying that this Grimhold keeps it captive? Is that why my power is so limited? Is that why I can't break free?"

"Er, I suppose so," Renee guessed. "I'm afraid I canna help wi' the Grimhold, but maybe we can get you free from the book, anyway. If you want a new body, maybe we could make a statue for you, or a doll or mannequin or somethin', and you could take over that."

"It's not alive," scoffed her mentor. "If it worked at all, it would be nothing more than a gateway, like this book. No, I need something alive...a person. That, I think, would be my way out of this prison. Unfortunately, I don't know how to do that."

"Oh, you mean the Fusion Spell!" Renee leaned back, surprised.

"What is that?"

The girl related what she'd been told, and the little her Encantus had included on the subject. "It's a way to join two souls in one body. The stronger one takes over: he controls the weaker one, and he decides when to unfuse. If they stay joined long enough, the empty body dies." She giggled. "Course, you wouldna have to worry about that, since you've no body to begin with." She had no doubts about who the stronger soul would be in any case.

Then she sobered. "It's nae easy to learn, though. Only Veronica and Balthazar have used it, and they both said they dinna like it. They won't even tell me any details about wha' happened when they did, and nobody else will, either. Must be a pretty horrible experience, I'm guessing."

"These two...they're elites, you say?"

"Yes."

"Then they're unusually strong, but I'm still stronger than they are. Teach me this spell, child. I want to use it."

"Well, all right..." Renee felt a sudden reluctance, almost a foreboding. "But even if ye did learn it, ye wouldna use it on anyone for long, right? Not permanent, I mean?"

"Of course not," the imprisoned soul assured her smoothly. "Just long enough to see my heir and her new baby. We don't want to hurt anyone, do we?"


	12. Where the spirit leads

"Teach me the Fusion Spell," Chandra's new student requested.

The older woman stopped in the middle of the history lesson she'd been delivering. "What?" she demanded. "What for?"

Renee sat at her Encantus table, chin resting on the heel of one hand. "This is boring. I want a challenge."

"Well," her teacher huffed, "I'm sorry you find my class so dull. How would you like a little quiz so I can see how much you've been paying attention?"

The girl shrugged. "If you want. I dinna care about history, though, nae even the history of magic. I want to learn how to do it, not how it started."

"Well, if you really want to learn the Fusion Spell, I suggest you ask your master or the Blakes. They were there at the beginning, when the spell was still new. How much of _that_ history do you know?"

"As much as you do, I suppose," was the unassuming response. "I've read what's in my Encantus, but there's nae much there. It jus' says...well, you know what it says. You have your own Encantus."

"True, but they're not all alike."

"They aren't?" This was something new. Renee sat up, her curiosity piqued. "Why not?"

Chandra shook her head. "See now? If you'd been paying attention, you would have known why not. Just to reiterate, then: every sorcerer has his or her own Encantus, specially tailored for its user. They all have the basics, of course, but the more advanced sections–certain spells and their explanations–only include what the sorcerer should be able to do. For example, no Merlinian has dark magic in his Encantus, and nobody but Dave has the Rising Spell, because he's the only one who can do it."

"Morgana could do it," her descendant proclaimed proudly. "Horvath tol' me so."

"Only if someone else created the Forbidden Realm," corrected her teacher, who knew more of Horvath's history than did his own apprentice. "Originally, she planned to have Horvath make it, but then things changed, so she used Veronica instead."

"But still..." Renee wasn't about to concede that her own family lacked sufficient power.

"How much do you know about it, really?" Chandra asked her straight out. "You've lived here long enough to have some idea of what happened with Morgana, and to have picked up something about both spells. Tell me, how much history do you know?"

The girl sat back. "Wow, you weren't kidding aboot that quiz, were you?" The other just stared at her expectantly, waiting, until she bowed her head in assent. "Awright, but don' expect me tae keep things neat 'n' tidy. I'm jus' goin' on the bits and pieces I've learned, nae like I've read it all in a book somewhere."

"Go on, then."

"Well," she began, "I've figured out that Morgana was the Merlinians' worst enemy. Seems she was Merlin's strongest apprentice, but then he wouldna teach her everythin' he should have. She didna take kindly to bein' held back..." _Just like me_, she thought. _I know I can do more, but they won't tell me how._ "So she left him and started her own school. She wanted to prove to Merlin that she was as strong as he was, but he didna like having competition. He took new apprentices, the elites, to try tae stop her, but she had enou' supporters to fight him off. Plus, she was under the non-aging spell jus' like him and his elites, so Merlin couldna jus' wait a few years for her to die off. She held her own against him."

Chandra nodded. "Mm-hmm, that's basically what all of us Morganians were taught. And what do you think of those elites now, Renee? Do you resent them for taking Merlin's side? Has your master told you of his role in the story?"

"I dunno," the young sorcerer admitted. "The Blakes seem nice enou', so I canna really think they're stingy like Merlin, but maybe they jus' trusted him too much, without knowing the other side of the story, Morgana's side. As for Horvath, I like that he gave her a chance, 'stead of jus' blindly followin' what his master tol' him. Now that the war's over, it's okay that he's friends with the Merlinians again."

"Are you aware of Balthazar's early training under Alvar?" queried Renee's trainer, somewhat cautiously for fear of revealing more than Horvath would like.

Her student noted her reluctance, and filed it away for future consideration. Her mentor had been right to warn her against trusting anyone else, she thought bitterly. They were keeping things from her, obviously, even those who had been Morgana's disciples. Did the blood of Merlin's old enemy still frighten them so much? Well, Renee would show them, in time. With the spirit's help, and the aid of the power growing within her womb, she would become stronger than any of them. She would be their new leader, and no one would ever look down on her again. She smiled to herself in anticipation of that day.

"Well?" Chandra prodded.

"Oh!" The girl shook her head, remembering the question. "Um, a little," she allowed. "I know Balthazar was the doctor's apprentice at Morgana's school. Then he met Veronica and switched sides tae be with her. Alvar was killed in battle, but then Merlin did The Rising to bring him back. It didna work out so well, though, so they kept him prisoner at the castle until Merlin died and they couldna keep him there any longer."

"And do you know how Merlin died?"

"Morgana." Her scion couldn't hide the hint of pride in her reply. "She beat him in a fight. He never should have tried to keep her down." Her face clouded then. "After that...I'm nae sure wha' happened. I think Balthazar and Veronica tricked her somehow, an' she got pulled into tha' Grimhold thing. Even so, she was able tae get hold of Veronica an' bring her in with her. My Encantus says Veronica used the Fusion Spell–firs' time anyone used it on a person–but Morgana was stronger, an' she took over. They were stuck inside the Grimhold together, so Morgana knew Balthazar wouldna destroy it. She knew he'd have to open the thing eventually tae let them both out. Morgana's very smart."

"Yes..."

"An' now, Veronica's free, so I'm guessin' that Morgana is, too, even if it's on'y in spirit form. What wi' Balthazar and Veronica and Dave all teamed up again' her, she prolly decided to lay low for a while, let everyone think she was gone."

"You don't think she is?"

"'Course not. Everyone knows spirits don' die. Nae, she's still around somewhere, even in your time in the future."

"Interesting." Chandra made a mental note to tell her colleagues of Renee's unwavering avowal. "Does Maggie think that, too?"

"I dunno," answered the young brunette. "I never asked."

"So anyway," Chandra went on, "do you know how Morgana escaped the Grimhold, and what happened afterwards?"

Renee's eyes narrowed. "Why do you ask?" she wanted to know. "Why don' you tell me what _you_ know for a change?"

"I wasn't there when it happened," was the smooth reply. "All I know is what Horvath, and then the others, told me. However, I'm the teacher here. I'm the one who's giving the quiz, not you. If your information is wrong, I'll correct it as much as I'm able. Otherwise, you'll have to ask your master."

Glowering, the reluctant student repeated what Horvath had seen fit to reveal. "He let her out, Master Horvath did. She still had hold o' Veronica. She wanted to do the Rising, show everyone she was as strong as Merlin. From what you say, though, she needed a Merlinian. Horvath was supposed to help her, but I guess he couldna do it anymore. It'd been too long. They made Veronica help her instead. Then Balthazar showed up, tryin' tae interfere, and Horvath had to fight him to keep him away. He was winnin', too, until Dave drove up an' used a dirty trick to knock him out. By the time he woke up, Morgana was gone, and on'y the three Merlinians were left. They were still enemies then. He left while he could, hopin' to get a message from Morgana, but he never got one. Tha's why I figure she's layin' low."

"So you don't know whether Morgana succeeded with the Rising or not?"

"I suppose not," Renee shrugged, "since there were nae other sorcerers there after the fight. Too much interference, no doubt, or she would have done it for sure."

"Yes, I believe you're right. What else have you heard about the spell?"

"Tha's it. It needs a Prime, in the Forbidden Realm. Merlin did it with Alvar, and Morgana would have done it with others if the Merlinians had jus' left her alone. It on'y brings back the dead sorcerers you want, but they'll be practically immortal like Alvar was until...well, I guess until the non-aging spell wears off. It's a great spell, really useful, but hardly anyone can do it."

Chandra nodded. "True enough, except for one thing. There _was_ one successful Rising, the way it was meant to be used." She paused, debating the wisdom of telling her pupil more. Renee was waiting with intense interest: the girl wouldn't be satisfied until she knew. Her teacher sighed and continued. "Dave used it on Balthazar. That's when Alvar became normal again, as well."

"Dave? He's...he's already done it?" She was impressed in spite of herself. "When? How?"

"As I said, I wasn't there. Horvath didn't see it, either. I only heard about it from the others. It was during that fight after Dave knocked Horvath out, when he and the other elites were fighting Morgana. Balthazar died in that fight, Renee. Dave used the spell on him after it was over."

"An' he succeeded where Merlin and Morgana failed..." Renee murmured as if to herself. No wonder her master had called Balthazar's pupil unbeatable. A twinge of jealous resentment tickled her mind, and her naturally competitive spirit embraced it. _If Dave can do it, then so can I_, she vowed. She would find a way, someday.

"Anyway," Chandra went on, "you were interested in the Fusion Spell. Have you heard or read any more about it?"

The girl's lips curled upward. "Oh, yeah," she acknowledged. "On'y one other time it was used on a person, an' it was Morgana again. Balthazar took her soul from Veronica, but she was too strong for him, too. Tha's when she got free."

"So I take it you want to try it yourself?" guessed her teacher. "On a person? Animals are much easier, you know." Such information was included in every Encantus, as this level was theoretically attainable by even normal sorcerers. Indeed, animals, which lacked the immortal soul of humans, were the usual subjects of the spell in practice. The sorcerer still had to master the basic skill of rending his own soul from his body, and then directing it into the body of his subject, but at least he didn't have to fight the other's soul to gain possession. More difficult still would be what Veronica had done: tearing an enemy soul from its body and fusing it with one's own. Veronica had paid dearly for that, a potent warning to any who might think to follow her example.

"Human fusion isn't something to be taken lightly," Chandra warned, as if she knew her student's thoughts. "First of all, no ordinary sorcerer even has the power to do it, as far as we know. We have enough trouble with animals. Not even Horvath ever succeeded with a person."

"He tol' me he dinna want to, that it would be a demotion to join someone else. He jus' uses his cane when he wants to control a human."

Her teacher laughed. "Of course he would say that," she said. "That's what he told all the Morganians. You think he's going to admit any weakness? Not likely."

"Oh."

"Then again..." Chandra went on thoughtfully, "he may have a point. The only two people who ever did it had rather strong motivations. That might just be the deciding factor; well, that and the inherent power to begin with. Before Veronica proved it could be done, the spell was just a theory."

"Like your theory of creating a wormhole that you can control."

"Huh? Oh, yeah, right." There were some similarities, now that she thought about it. Hopefully, her current project wouldn't exact so steep a price if the theory turned out to be right.

"I have the power," Renee pointed out. "If I bring an animal, will you teach me the Fusion Spell?"

"Well..."

"Please?"

Chandra threw up her hands. "Fine. I can't get you beyond animals, but I can at least teach you the basic principles. You wanted a challenge? You've got it. Bring one of the servants' pets, but make sure you let the owner know it won't be harmed. Humans tend to become far too attached to their animals."

* * *

"A raven? How splendid."

Renee basked in her mentor's approval. She grinned at the bird, perched upon the brass rail at the foot of her bed, but it only stared back at her with bright and curious eyes. Could it hear what she heard, the spectral voice of her Nana rising from the book beneath her fingers? It gave no sign; but then again, how would she know?

"I'm glad you like it," she answered. "I had tae use my ring tae get it away fro' its owner. Old man's a bit o' a grouch, loner an' all. None o' the other servants like him. Edgar here's his on'y friend. I 'spect nobody'll mind us usin' his bird for practice. They prolly hope we end up killin' the thing."

The spirit of Morgana echoed her amusement. "Not today," came the reply. "For now, we need it. We will learn the spell together, you and I. Until I find a suitable...er, _willing_ human to serve as my host for a while, this bird will be my eyes and ears, and my hands if necessary. I will see this Merlinian castle for myself."

* * *

Renee and her avian companion became frequent visitors to their neighbors in the castle. While Horvath was away, they traveled with Chandra when the older sorcerer went there for her research project, and they were back every weekend for the group's regular gathering. The Merlinians grew used to their young friend's new pet, though they could do no more than tolerate its presence themselves.

"It's not exactly my idea of warm and fuzzy," Dave explained at dinner, carefully keeping his eyes averted from the bird glowering like a gargoyle on the back of Renee's chair.

"It's different," the girl agreed happily. "Like me," she added. Casually, she lifted a strip of meat in her fingers, up to the level of her shoulder, and the raven snapped it eagerly into its beak. The creature cawed for more.

Veronica changed the subject. "You're due soon, aren't you?" she asked rhetorically. "Have you seen the father at all since...?"

"Yes," answered both of the questions. "I am, and I have." She smiled but said nothing more.

"Does he know?"

"Not yet. I've nae been in town for months, since Maggie asked me to stay home." The smile was gone. Maggie's sister had acquired a reputation that reflected poorly on the family; and, by extension, the entire household, including the new doctor and his practice.

Veronica shook her head. "You really should tell him, Renee, as soon as possible. This is his son, after all. Even if you don't want anyone else to find out who he is..." She suspected that this was for the man's sake, that society would find his indiscretion unacceptable. He was probably married, and quite possibly a public figure with much to lose. The thought of her fellow sorcerer resorting to blackmail was disquieting, to say the least. "He should know," she continued. "Surely, you can make arrangements without anyone getting hurt."

"Nae, I can't." Renee shook her head. They'd had this conversation before, and it had been just as fruitless then. The pressure was mounting for her to confess–gentle pressure, but unrelenting–but she wasn't ready, not yet. She wasn't sure she would ever be ready.

With a sigh, the other woman let the subject drop. "Agatha's first birthday is coming up next week," she noted instead. "We plan to celebrate with all the children from both our estates. We'll have pony rides and a flying carpet along with magic tricks. Would you like to be in charge of any of those things?"

That was better. "Aye, I'll control the carpet." She bobbed her head happily at the thought.

"Good. Please, though, leave Edgar at home. We don't want to frighten the children."

Renee looked uncertain at this request, but at length gave her tentative assent. "He's my friend," she explained. "I dinna want him to feel left out. Still, I suppose jus' the one day, I can leave him at the manor, if ye really think I should."

"Will the pony rides be magic?" Ben chimed in hopefully. "I want magic ponies." He hadn't forgotten his first ride with Dr. Masters.

Alvar glanced at the boy's mother for her approval. She stayed pointedly neutral, which he took as permission. "Yes, Ben," he replied. "Magic ponies, too."

"And our Londoners promise to be back by then, as well," added Chandra. "Horvath seems really eager to give Agatha this surprise birthday present he got for her."

Dave couldn't help but ask, "Any idea what it is?"

"Not a clue. He just says it's for his favorite little sorcerer."

"Hmm, I'm afraid to even guess." He scanned the room to find the others nodding in agreement or grinning like himself–all but Balthazar, that is, who was making his best attempt to feed his daughter without getting the mashed potatoes all over her face.

Agatha wasn't cooperating. When she wasn't trying to stand up in her high chair, she was busy swatting away the spoon in her father's hand. The wooden tray in front of her was already half-covered in rejected food. Balthazar, however, was just as stubborn as she. He refused to give up the effort.

"Um, Balthazar," Dave suggested, "I don't think she's hungry."

"Yes she is," insisted the other with a note of frustrated determination. "She's just trying to be the boss here, that's all. See how she keeps reaching for the milk on the table? She wants that, all right, but she's not getting it until she eats her dinner. I am _not_ going to let a one-year-old order me around."

Dave shrugged. "Good luck," he offered. Turning to Veronica, he asked, "Can't you talk to her? How come she only acts up when we have company?"

"She misses her godfather," replied the baby's mother. "She recognizes all of us here, but Horvath is missing. She doesn't understand why he isn't with us. As for me trying to explain it to her, I'm afraid I can't, any more than anyone else can. She's too young to grasp the concept; there are no words to bridge that gap. I understand her, but she doesn't understand us, not yet."

"Okay, she misses Horvath. Does she miss Becky, too?"

Veronica frowned. "It's strange," she allowed. "Becky...she's like the servants. Agatha knows her in the same way, just someone who lives here. It's as if she's picking up our sorcerer signatures, those of us with the gift, and that's what she actually recognizes."

"Wait a minute. Are you saying that Agatha knows whether someone is a sorcerer, even without a ring?"

"Yes, we believe so."

Balthazar added without turning from his futile task, "Too bad she couldn't have been born a thousand years ago. It would have saved us a lot of guesswork, and a lot of footwork too."

"What about Ben?" came a quiet inquiry from the redhead across the table. Maggie wanted to know, _needed_ to know, but she dreaded the possible answer. "Does he have this...signature you speak of?"

"I'm not sure. Let's find out." With that, Veronica rose and lifted the wet washcloth from the table beside her daughter's cup of milk. Her husband sat back, obviously glad of the reprieve from his battle. He could now withdraw without having to admit defeat. The baby raised her arms toward her mother. A minute later, with face and hands freshly washed, she was carried around the table to the boy who waited on the other side.

Veronica rested her free hand on Ben's dark mop of hair to focus her child's attention. "Agatha, who is this? Do you know who he is?"

The little girl just blinked. She was capable of speaking, if only at a rudimentary level, but she said nothing now.

"Who am I, Agatha?" her mother urged. "Tell everyone who I am. Who am I?"

"Mama," answered the child, quietly as if she were revealing a vital secret.

"And who is that?" Veronica nodded to Balthazar.

"Dada." Slowly, Agatha's shyness was receding. Her voice was a little louder now.

In turn, the baby named the others in the room at her mother's prodding. "Day" was her term for Dave, "Pa" for grandpa Alvar, "Aggie" for Maggie (laughing at the similarity of the other's name to her own), "Ahna" for Chandra, and a somewhat uncertain "Nay" for Renee. "Nay?" she repeated with a frown.

The pregnant girl was suddenly nervous. She stood and headed for the doorway. "'Scuse me," she requested. "I have tae, um...tae visit the loo," she claimed before making a hasty exit.

Veronica stared after her, wondering. "It's the baby," she decided. "Agatha's picking up the baby's signature along with Renee's, and it's confusing her."

Dave was impressed. "Wow, that's one powerful talent your kid's got," he remarked to his master. "So Renee's kid is gonna be a sorcerer, too, eh? Agatha knows already. What's she gonna be able to do once she gets her sorcerer ring?"

"We'll see," Balthazar replied. "Okay, now what about Ben?"

Veronica asked her child again, and again her child was silent. Instead, Agatha gave a huge yawn and leaned against her mother's side. She rubbed her sleepy eyes.

Maggie let out a breath of relief. "Well, it looks like Ben takes after his father," she said. "He has engineering talent, but no magic. I'm so glad."

Ben didn't look glad, though. "No magic?" he lamented. "I want magic. Teach me some?" He looked to Alvar, ignoring his mother's disapproval and putting the doctor in a tight spot.

Fortunately, Balthazar came to his master's rescue. "We can't teach real magic if you don't have it already," he explained, "but we can teach things that look like magic." He winked at Dave before looking back at the boy. "Tell you what: you can impress your friends at Agatha's birthday bash next week. I'll teach you a few 'magic' tricks for some little girl's tea, or birthday, party. We'll start with a deck of cards."

* * *

"I'm nearly ready," the spectral voice announced. "Next time you go to the castle, I'll be with you."

Renee felt a thrill of something–excitement? fear? admiration? She couldn't say—and her hand trembled upon the open page. Edgar the raven shifted nervously from one leg to the other upon her footboard, shying away when she reached out to stroke his glossy head. He'd felt the attempts at control over his mind and body, growing ever stronger, and something within him sensed that the next attempt would succeed. Only the power of the girl's sorcerer ring held him here still.

"The party," said Renee. "It's jus' a few days away. But I canna take you with me; Veronica asked me to leave the bird here."

"Then I'll follow on my own. Look for me when you get there, and we can meet somewhere private. I know I'll be able to take over the animal by the time that day comes, maybe even as soon as tomorrow."

"You can do it that soon? I canna even get out o' my own body yet."

Laughter filled her mind. "I have the advantage, child," she heard. "I'm already a master...and I have no body to leave."

"Aye, 'tis true enough. Someday, I want tae be a master jus' like you."

"You will be, child...and it will happen sooner than you think."


	13. Birthday girl

Agatha's big day arrived, but she alone remained unaware of it. Though she reached a full year in age on Thursday, her party was delayed until the following Sunday afternoon for the convenience of the guests. The children (and their parents) of both Dragon Castle and the Masters estate were invited, along with a few of the doctor's younger patients. The hosts planned for about thirty to be in attendance.

As it happened, the weather was somewhat dreary, still cool and damp with the last stubborn remnants of Winter. The children didn't mind; Ben played leader to his friends in the garden and then in the front courtyard where the vehicles were parked. Their ambitious plan to thoroughly explore the grounds was sternly denied.

"You are _not_ going on an expedition," Maggie declared to them all. "You're all in your good party clothes. We don't want you traipsing through the mud, getting filthy and probably catching cold. You stay here in the yard, or in the garden, or else you go inside with the grown-ups."

Ben's face fell. "Aww, that's no fun," he pouted. Mom remained unmoved. Beside her, Alvar offered no help. Ben made the best of it. He had an idea. Turning to his followers, he grinned and pointed at the parked cars and carriages. "Wanna play hide and seek?"

"No!"

He pivoted back to his mother, annoyed. "Aw, Mom, come on. You never let us do anything."

She scowled her own annoyance. "Let's go inside," she sighed. "As soon as Becky and Horvath get here, we can start the party. Meanwhile, Ben, why don't you show everyone the magic tricks that Balthazar taught you?"

"Even the grown-ups?" He was a little nervous about performing in front of an adult audience.

"Why not? You know everybody. There's no need to be afraid."

He fidgeted.

Alvar did offer some help now. "What if we ask Balthazar to be your assistant? I'm sure he won't mind."

"Okay!" Ben's big grin was back. A stage wasn't nearly as frightful when he could share it with someone else. "Come on!" he called to those gathered around him, and the group followed its leader to the castle. Their chaperones brought up the rear.

* * *

"Dave!" Becky didn't have to call again. He was there, arms wrapped tightly around her in the foyer just inside the front door, and it was long before his kiss of welcome ended.

He pulled back enough to get another look at the new arrival. "Wow," he noted admiringly. "You're even more gorgeous than usual."

"Thanks." Her smile widened. "I was going to ask if you like my new dress, but I guess I don't have to ask, do I?"

He shook his head and continued his stare. The dress was deep red in color, trimmed in subtle frills that ended below its wearer's knees. As she removed her wrap and handed it to the butler, she revealed bare shoulders beneath a triple-stranded pearl necklace. Matching pearl earrings shone their soft luster under her golden hair pinned back in ivory combs. Red pumps and red lipstick completed the celebrity look.

"It's kind of daring," she admitted with a tinge of embarrassment, "especially for a kid's birthday party, but I wanted to make myself pretty for you, to kind of...you know, make up for being away so much."

"I love it," he replied. "I, um...I missed you. I'm glad you're back."

Her smile faltered. _Uh-oh_, he thought in near panic. _I said the wrong thing, didn't I? What am I supposed to say? Somebody, help!_

She saw his discomfort, but made no answer to his unspoken plea. After an awkward, silent few seconds, she reached out to take his elbow. "Let's go greet the birthday girl," she suggested.

"Sure." Dave nodded. He wasn't feeling well now, with head full of confusion and stomach a leaden weight. This wasn't what he'd expected when his Becky came back home, not at all. _What's wrong with me?_ Well, maybe things would get back to normal as the day went on. He escorted his lady inside.

The guests were gathered in the music room, where Ben was still basking in the adulation of his recent audience. Adults and children filled the room with chatter and laughter. Many had drinks and appetizers in hand from the table against one wall, while others admired the pile of gifts in another corner. ("You don't have to bring presents," Agatha's parents had instructed. "She's too young to appreciate them." Nobody heeded their instructions.) The room had been decorated with a pony motif, the most prominent example of which was a large, colorful pinata hanging high from the middle of the ceiling. Balthazar was a gracious host, but his wife had withdrawn with their child to the nursery. "Agatha's afraid of being around so many people," her father explained with apologies. "We'll bring her back in a little while, when Veronica's had some time to calm her down." The other parents understood.

Balthazar caught a flash of red from the corner of his eye. He turned and smiled in delight. "Becky!" He waved to her. "Welcome back!" She and Dave made their way through the crowd to him, while he noted with amusement the reactions of the others to the scandalous red party dress. "What would they think of the fashions of your day?" he laughed when she drew near.

"It's more flattering than a flapper dress," she replied.

"Oh, definitely. I'm not so sure the reputation is any better, though."

Becky's cheeks reddened. "I...hadn't thought of that," she admitted. "I just wanted to please Dave."

"You did!" Dave broke in. "Please me, I mean." He stared at the floor, afraid to say any more.

Balthazar changed the subject. "So, where's Horvath?" he asked. "He did come back with you, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," the blonde confirmed. "He sent me on ahead while he was busy unpacking the birthday gift he brought."

"Any idea what it is?"

She smiled. "Yes, I know what it is." Balthazar waited, but she merely grinned wider and let his curiosity go unsatisfied. "He made me promise not to tell anyone."

"Oh. Well, it had better be good, then." He looked toward the doorway through which she'd arrived. "We're just about ready to start. Let me talk to the band, then go get Agatha. Hopefully, Horvath and his mysterious present will be here by then." He gave her a courteous nod and headed for the group of musicians.

Dave, having regained some of his self-confidence by now, draped an arm around Becky's shoulders. "I'm going to be a conductor for a couple of minutes, as soon as Agatha comes back. How good's your singing voice?"

"Mmm, it's okay, I guess. I'd never make it onto 'Britain's Got Talent,' but I'm not nails on a chalkboard, either."

"Yeah, likewise for me."

They moved to the piano, standing where they could see clearly the exit nearest the nursery. When Balthazar and his family appeared there in the doorway, the trio stopped. Dave's master gave him a silent signal, and the apprentice in turn hushed the music. Becky took a step back, leaving her beau alone in the spotlight. When all eyes were focused on Dave, he lifted his arms dramatically. A half-turn and wave started an instrumental flourish; then the air was filled with the old, familiar tune. The guests sang as one to their conductor's leading.

"Happy birthday, dear Agatha," found the birthday girl herself entering the room, still in her mother's arms. Her blue eyes were wide, her arms tight around mother's neck, but she was less uneasy than before. When Becky approached to give her greeting, a tiny hand reached out for her pearl necklace. Fortunately, Agatha lacked the strength to pull it very hard.

"Who wants cake?" Balthazar shouted. A chorus of answering "Me!"s and "I do!"s filled the room, and the children made a rush for the table. They had to wait there while their host sliced the birthday cake and handed the first piece to Veronica for their child.

Later, those who wished to stay for the gift unwrapping gathered around the Blakes and the pile of presents. Most of the children preferred to follow Chandra outside for the promised pony rides. Ben had told them of his own first ride upon Alvar's shapeshifting mule, and they were eager to try such magic mounts for themselves.

Becky's gift for the birthday girl was a small flat square. Veronica carefully rolled a disk from its protective sleeve and held it up for everyone to see. "Agatha's First Birthday Song," the label proclaimed, "by William Barone, Barn Door Studio, London, 1926."

"Who's William Barone?" Dave wanted to know, not altogether pleased. Just how much time had Becky been spending with other men, and how much of that was more than business?

She recognized what he didn't say aloud, and it gave her a perverse sense of satisfaction. "He's a talented young singer," she replied. "He recorded this as a favor to me, but I wouldn't be surprised if we hear more from him, professionally, in the years to come." Dave's face clouded. "Don't worry," she relented. "I told him I'm already taken. He's a gentleman, so he's content to keep things just business. He's not like Renee." _There_, she thought. _If you don't get my point now, you never will._

"Speaking of Renee..." Maggie, among those crowded around the gift corner, frowned with concern. "Where is she? I haven't seen her since we got here." Her sister was very pregnant, due in just two weeks, and it wouldn't do for her to wander off alone for very long. "We need to find her."

Veronica concurred. "Yes, she said she wanted to be in charge of the flying carpet. It's still outside next to the ponies, but it won't get off the ground until we have someone to control it." The carpet was supposed to be for the use of those children who were still waiting for their turns on a pony, or who simply wanted an alternative riding experience.

Maggie backed away from the crowd. "I'm going to look for my sister," she announced.

"I'll come with you," Alvar said, joining her. "She may have need of our services." He turned back to the birthday celebrants, who were looking decidedly uncomfortable now at this unexpected turn of events. "Stay here," he told them. "Let's not ruin my granddaughter's party. Maggie or I will let you know if we find anything."

* * *

The gifts were nearly all unwrapped by the time the final guest arrived. Agatha, in the middle of pulling off the bow from the present on her lap, stopped abruptly and squirmed to face the doorway. A huge smile spread across her face.

"Offa!" she cried. The others in the room turned to see. There had been no warning, no noise to alert them of his coming. Agatha forgot the fallen present beside her and stood, reaching out to welcome her newly-come godfather. She took a few baby steps toward him.

Horvath stood with his arms full of...something. It was about the size of a large dog, with a similar shape, but obscured by the thick canvas tarp draped over it. He brought it forward, only to stand it with the rest of the gifts yet to be opened. Then the little girl was swept up into his arms, and they were both laughing, and their joy spread to all those around them.

"It's about time you showed up," Balthazar noted after the initial welcome was done. "What took you so long?"

Horvath pointed his chin at the canvas-covered object. "Some assembly required," he explained. "It's custom-made, so I had to figure it out myself–no instructions."

"You should have asked Ben to help you," his friend replied with a smile. "He's good at that sort of thing."

Agatha leaned forward so that Horvath had to use both hands to keep her from tumbling to the floor. She was staring at the big package, obviously eager to unwrap it.

"Let's save that one until last," her godfather recommended. "You have a few other gifts to finish first." She either didn't understand or didn't agree.

Veronica, however, did both. She did the honors in her daughter's stead, showing proper appreciation for each toy or doll or outfit, just as she had for all the previous offerings.

Finally, it was time for the grand finale. Horvath set down his burden, and she wasted no time toddling to the last remaining present. Grasping little fingers pulled the canvas to the floor.

Before her stood a pony, saddled with a specially-built, secure child's seat and stirrups over a gilt and tasseled blanket. It was bridled with shimmering reins similarly tasseled, a golden bow between its ears, and polished green hoofs spotted throughout with red. The eyes were green stone also, but mottled with yellow rather than red. The hide was chestnut with white blaze and socks, but the mane and tail were black. It was a royal ride awaiting its little princess.

Agatha simply stared.

"Does she like it?" Dave asked the girl's mother. Nobody could tell.

Veronica shrugged. "She's not sure yet. It's a little scary because it's bigger than she is, but it's much smaller than a real pony, and it's from Horvath. Maybe if someone showed her what to do with it..."

Horvath volunteered. "I will." He lifted the birthday girl and set her into the saddle, much as her parents did with her high chair. That much was acceptable. However, she refused to let go of his hand, even when he tried to give her the reins instead. "Come on, Agatha," he coaxed. "You have to grab the reins. There's another surprise for you when you do." Still, she wouldn't be persuaded. Indeed, when Horvath persisted, she instead began to cry. He turned his pleading gaze to her parents. "Help?"

Balthazar was enjoying his old friend's predicament, but Veronica took pity on the man. She threw her husband a withering glare, which he ignored, then retrieved her child from the pony's back. Agatha whimpered and clung tightly to her mother. "I'm sorry," Veronica apologized to Horvath. "We'll try again later, maybe tomorrow or in a few days, after she gets used to seeing it around. It's not your fault." She laid a reassuring hand upon his arm.

"What's this other surprise?" Balthazar wanted to know. "Is this a magic pony or something?"

"Yes, actually." Horvath drew himself up, more in his element now than he'd been when trying to deal with a one-year-old. "Did you notice the hoofs? That's bloodstone. And the eyes, they're plasma, imported all the way from China. Of course, you know that, world travelers that we both are, but maybe not everyone else here knew. Oh, and the mane and tail are real horsehair. We've got metallic threads in the reins going all the way to the bit, and of course the stirrups are made of steel. I've primed it all for Agatha's first contact. So, what do you think will happen when she takes the reins?"

Merlin's fellow apprentice was impressed despite himself. "Nice," he admitted. "It's more custom-made even than the rug in your training room or the stained-glass windows here. It's for one person alone, and nobody else can use it, not even another child with the gift." They both knew, but couldn't say in front of the human guests, what that meant: Agatha's touch would activate the pony, turning it into a living statue that would be hers alone to control, much like Merlin's marble chariot horse. Unlike the chariot horse, though, the pony's horsehair would influence the rest of the beast to change, so that it would be virtually impossible to tell that it wasn't a real, living animal. Those who didn't know would simply assume it was the latest technical marvel, like telephones or a eugenics experiment. It was a brilliant gift, if only the rider accepted it. "She'll love it," Balthazar declared. "Just give her a little time."

* * *

Only the pinata was left. As the children wandered back inside from their afternoon of riding, they were made to wash their hands and faces before gathering in a ring below the paper pony. One by one, they were blindfolded and took their turns at bat, swinging at the unseen target above. It was struck more than once, but not directly, and not hard enough to break it open. Agatha watched but didn't participate.

Balthazar was distracted from the ongoing spectacle by a sudden, quiet presence at his side.

"We found her," Alvar informed him. "She's asleep in the training room..." He grinned and finished, "in Chandra's electric chair."

"All right. We'll let her sleep, then, until we're all done here." He was a little annoyed, and it came through in his voice. "If she was that tired, she could have just stayed home. It's not like we made her come here against her will."

"Oh, she wanted to come," his master assured him. "You'll have to excuse the girl, Balthazar. Every pregnancy is different. They affect women in different ways. I'm sure she didn't plan to sleep through the whole party. Please don't make her feel guilty about it, okay?"

"So what was she doing in the training room, anyway? There are plenty of empty beds just a few feet up the hallway."

Alvar shrugged. "I don't know. It looks like she was taking on Chandra's role, all strapped in with the helmet on. You'll just have to ask her when she wakes up. Oh, and one more thing...her pet raven is there, too."

The pinata chose that moment to split apart. With a shriek, the surrounding players converged on the candy shower that was already covering the floor. There was a mad scramble, each child rushing to fill the white paper bag his parents held for him. More there was, plenty for all to fill their pockets and anything else that would hold their favorite treats.

Alvar, watching the melee, shook his head. "I hope they all have a good dentist," he remarked. "Teeth are not my specialty."

* * *

Renee woke to the touch of a hand upon her arm and a ring of faces around her. She sat up with a start...or tried to. Something held her down. A moment of panic filled her mind, until she remembered: the chair. Calmer now, she willed the straps to loosen, the helmet to lift from her head. The belt she hadn't bothered with at all. Ah, she was free now. That was better.

Looking up then, she reconsidered. Maggie, to whose touch she'd awakened, was not pleased with her, nor were any of the others who surrounded her. Instinctively, she sought out her partner, who sat perched atop the domed cylinder that housed the battery. Bright black eyes stared back at her, and a single caw acknowledged her efforts this day.

"What are you doing here, Renee?" demanded the master of the castle. He looked stern, but not angry...not yet. She would have to be careful.

"I'm sorry," she replied. "The party...?"

"The party is over."

"Oh. I...um...I came up here tae get away from everyone...the other guests, I mean, not you all. I knew the humans couldna get in here." Like the special room at the Masters estate, the entrances to this one were sealed off: only a sorcerer and those with him could enter. Alone, neither Becky nor Ben would be able to cross the threshold, nor would they even be permitted inside during active research. The castle servants and others were denied access altogether. This was a necessary safety measure since Dave had begun his project. Renee continued, "I jus' needed some space. And besides, I wanted to keep Edgar away from the bairns. He followed me here. Veronica was right, though; he dinna get along wi' the little ones."

That much was evident. Even now, Agatha shrank from the bird's malicious glare as she did her best to hide against her mother's shoulder. Veronica carried her daughter to the farthest corner of the room.

The training room had seen extensive modification since the battery had first been constructed. The mirrored fence was replaced by a clear circular wall with no visible means of entry, and a tiny control station sat just outside the wall with cables rising above it to radiate like sunbeams along the stone ceiling. They connected the station to Chandra's chair, to the battery base, and a bank of other intimidating machines that blinked and purred and recorded so that the room was never entirely silent

Balthazar continued his questioning. "That's not a good enough answer, Renee. There are plenty of nicer rooms if you just wanted to get yourself and Edgar away from everyone, but you chose this one instead. You were trying to use Chandra's electric chair. Why? What were you trying to accomplish?"

Renee felt her cheeks burning. She'd been caught, and there was no pretending her presence here was anything but deliberate. She had to tell the truth...or some of it, at least. "I...I wanted to do what Chandra does...and Dave. I wanted to show you I can do it, all by myself."

Dave, incredulous, gaped at her. "You were trying to create a wormhole on your own?"

"I made the battery work!" she retorted. "I did it from the chair!" She had to look away then. "But it took a lot out o' me. I ran out o' energy."

"And that's when you fell asleep?"

She nodded unhappily. "If I didna have the baby, I prolly could have done more."

Now it was Alvar's turn to chastise her. "Young lady, that attitude is not just irresponsible, it can be downright dangerous. You have no idea what these forces you're trying to control can do to you, or to your baby. There's a reason you were never invited to participate in these experiments." Inside the clear wall, generated by the control station through the power of the Merlin Circle itself, the forces had no effect. It was a haven; unoccupied, as it was at present, accessible to the first sorcerer who wished entry, but afterwards allowing free passage only at the sorcerer's discretion. Any who stood inside were safe from the effects of their experiments; only those outside were at risk. It was for this reason that the room was barred to all but sorcerers and those who accompanied them.

The physician turned to Maggie. "In fact, I think we'd better find out right now whether this...incident has had any harmful effects."

The redhead obliged. She rested one hand on her sister's forehead, the other on Renee's pregnant belly. Eyes closed, head bowed, she murmured words too soft for the onlookers to hear, words meant for One who needed no ears. After a few moments, she lifted her head and smiled. "Better now," she proclaimed. "Isaac is kicking."

From the corner, Veronica also smiled. She approached the chair and held Agatha's hand flat above the young woman's abdomen. "May we?" she requested.

Renee was feeling better, thanks to her sister's ministrations. She nodded. A small hand pressed down on the rippling expanse of her belly, the little rosebud lips parted in awe at the evidence of life within. Wide blue eyes flicked between two sorcerers, two whose signatures she knew. "Day," she announced. "Nay." She laughed. "Day-Nay."

"Isaac," corrected the girl in the chair.

"Day-Nay," Agatha insisted. "Day-Nay, Day-Nay, Day-Nay."

Veronica drew back with her daughter. She was coming to a certain conclusion, and so was everyone else...

Especially Becky. "Renee," she stated but didn't ask, "you never told us who the father is. Tell us, now. Is Agatha right?" She deliberately kept her eyes averted from the young man standing beside her.

The air was thick with tension. In the silence of the next few seconds, Renee relished the power she wielded, the power to change the lives of those around her. She'd been loath to tell anyone but Nana the truth about Isaac's paternity, but now she had little choice. To her own amazement, she found she didn't mind. "Aye," she conceded. "My baby's father is Dave."

* * *

"Dave, how could you?"

Dave didn't know which was worse: Becky's legitimate anger with him, or the hurt he'd inadvertently caused her. When she'd turned on her heel and left the training room without another word, he followed close behind, his pleas for her to stop unheeded. He followed her all the way back to her bedroom, where she at last turned to confront him.

"I didn't know," he averred, but she didn't believe him.

"Maybe you didn't know Isaac was yours, but you sure knew what you were doing when he was conceived!"

"Come on, Becky..."

"Don't give me that innocent routine! I've been faithful to you ever since we got together. You agreed we'd be faithful to each other, _and_ that we'd both wait. You told me we were something special, that you'd never wanted anyone else. I believed you! Fool that I was, I believed you." She grabbed a handkerchief to wipe the tears from her eyes. "I never should have come back with you," she continued mournfully. "My whole life, gone, just because I thought I'd found the one for me."

"Becky, I'm really sorry..."

"Go away, Dave. Just...leave."

He was losing her, he knew. Her next trip to London would be her last; she wouldn't be coming back. Desperately, he blurted out what he now realized had to be true. "It was you, Becky! I swear, I thought it was you! You...she...told me she didn't want to wait anymore. I never told her we'd never... How could she know? And then in the morning, I looked for you, but you weren't there. I thought it was a dream. 'Cuz I...I dream of you. Not Renee, Becky, you!"

She was staring now, and he was relieved to see that at least the tears were gone. "You thought she was me?" she asked, as if she still couldn't quite accept it. "You thought I wanted to...?" Becky was well aware of a sorcerer's ability to change his, or her, appearance at will. That part of Dave's story rang true. The rest of it, his acceptance of her uncharacteristic behavior, still hurt. "Is that what you really think of me, Dave, or is that just how you wish I really were?"

She glanced down at the red dress she wore, the one that suggested just such a reputation, and cursed herself for her own contribution to his opinion. "I'm going to burn this dress," she told him. "I'm never going to push the envelope again."

"Ah, don't do that," her boyfriend countered. "I love your dress. I love how you gave up everything just to be with me. It really means a lot. And you can wear whatever you want. You can dress up in a burlap sack, and you would still be the most beautiful girl in the world. I don't care."

He reached for her then, and she allowed herself to be folded into his embrace. "Forgive me?" he pleaded. "I honestly didn't know what happened that night."

"I don't know..." she whispered against his shoulder. "How can I be sure something like that won't happen again?"

He thought about it. "We'll have to have a password or secret question or something. If either of us has any doubts, we'll test each other. Just make sure we don't tell _anyone_ else."

"Dave?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you love me?"

He simply held her there while their hearts pounded their rhythm in unison. This was the question, the one thing he'd never been able to resolve. All of the definitions of love, all the descriptions of what it was and wasn't, didn't help. Love was more than feelings, more than devotion or even self-sacrifice, though it was all of those things when needed. What more was there?

Gently, he placed a hand under her chin and lifted her face to his. This woman...what was his life without her? He could tolerate her absence, for a while, as long as he knew she'd be back, that they would be together again soon. He could function without her, as he'd done for the first twenty years of his life, but now his work wasn't enough. He needed her in order to be complete. _I want you_, he told her without speaking. _I need you_. He smiled. "Yes," he said with a certainty he'd seldom felt before. "Yes, I love you, Becky Barnes."


	14. A necessary union

"Well, this certainly puts a new twist on things, doesn't it?" Horvath commented drily.

"Indeed," Balthazar replied into the ensuing stunned silence. "It seems our apprentices have been doing more than just competing on the training ground." He considered. "We have some decisions to make now."

"We?" challenged Horvath's apprentice. "No offence, sir, but I'm the one who's pregnant. I think I can make my own decisions, thank 'e verra much."

Her master fixed her with a glare that would brook no defiance. "You're still my apprentice," he pointed out coldly. "It's my job to see that you become fully trained, even if we need to use a substitute teacher sometimes. You take your orders from me until I see fit to release you, understand?"

"But this isn't part of my training!"

He raised his jeweled cane as if to strike her, and she shrank back from the fury in his eyes. He struggled for control. The others watched but didn't interfere; this was Horvath's battle alone, and he did have the right to punish his apprentice as he pleased. Of course, Balthazar, the master of the castle, wouldn't allow serious harm to come to his guests, but that was an option reserved as a last resort. He waited for Horvath's response.

The Morganian paused, shaking with tension. He closed his eyes and forced several deep breaths before he regained his composure. "Don't," he commanded, "ever...test me like that again." His hand lowered, the end of his cane resting easily now on the floor. "Now," he continued as if the altercation had never happened, "where were we? Ah yes, decisions."

"What decisions?" she queried meekly. "What would ye have me do?"

Horvath raised an eyebrow at the raven watching them intently from atop the dormant battery, almost as if the creature understood their every word. The bird gave him an angry caw. "Well, first of all," the sorcerer instructed, "you can send Edgar back to the estate. He knows the way, I trust?"

"Y...yes, of course." They had visited the castle often enough, after all. Her master gazed at her expectantly, waiting for her to obey. He was not a patient man.

Renee had little choice. With a sigh, she struggled out of the chair's embrace and held one arm out straight. Edgar came to her without hesitation. The girl carried her charge to the nearest window that wasn't fixed shut, in the hallway that led to the apprentice bedrooms. She spoke quiet words to the animal, then released it into the early evening sky. She returned alone to the training room.

Veronica had moved to the doorway in Renee's absence. "I think Agatha has had enough excitement for the day," she said. "She missed her nap, so she's ready for bed anyway. Good night, everyone, and thank you all for coming to the party." She smiled at the guests, then, taking care to include the one who'd slept through it all, and slipped out of the room with her daughter.

Balthazar watched them go, his expression unreadable, then turned back to his visitors and friends. "Why don't we go somewhere more comfortable?" he suggested. "Somewhere we can all sit down? I get the feeling this is going to be a long discussion."

"I'm sorry," said his master Alvar. "I'm afraid you'll have to have your discussion without me. I need to be getting home soon: work tomorrow." To Maggie, he added, "You can take the day off tomorrow if you like, or come in later. I know you want to be here for your sister."

"Thank you, doctor," she replied. "Yes, I'd like to stay. Please, though, take Ben back to the house with you. This isn't something I really want him to hear."

"Aw, Mom!" protested the boy. "I wanna stay!"

Alvar laid a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Ben," he ordered. "You've got school tomorrow, even if it's at home instead of at my office." Ben sulked, but went with his designated caretaker. They started for the door, but then stopped. Alvar looked back. "Chandra, would you like to come with us?" he invited. "There's plenty of room in the carriage."

She nodded. "Yes, I'll come. Agatha isn't the only one who's had a full day of excitement."

* * *

Balthazar led his colleague and the two sisters to the far end of a hallway opposite that which fronted the apprentice bedrooms. A staircase there took them to an upper room with a large window looking over the castle grounds. Rich carpeting ended at the stone hearth before a fireplace, which even now blazed to life at a wave of its master's hand. Candles in their sconces on the walls gave additional light, for the sun was already low in the sky. Against the walls to either side were twin leather couches, flanked by matching angled chairs. A set of crystal goblets surrounded a ruby flask on the table by the door.

"Sit," the host invited. Renee gladly claimed the nearest chair–the climb had been hardest on her–and her sister gave her a sympathetic smile. Maggie stood behind the chair, one hand upon each of Renee's slim shoulders, a tangible gesture of support. Horvath eyed the flask with interest, but Balthazar remained in the doorway.

"I need to go get Dave and Becky," the sorcerer explained. "We'll be back shortly. Meanwhile, make yourselves at home. There's Burgundy wine here, but you...well, Horvath...can change that if you want." He left them with a nod of courtesy.

When he returned, the younger couple followed hand in hand. Dave and Becky sat together on one of the couches; apparently, they were back on good terms with one another, though Dave pointedly refused to even look at Renee.

Balthazar began with a question for his peer. "Horvath, do you want to go first? She's your apprentice, after all."

The man considered, but then shook his head. "No, you go ahead," he replied. "I don't trust myself to keep my temper." He glared at the young brunette in question, just to make sure she understood. She bowed her head; yes, she knew.

"All right." Balthazar moved closer to the hearth, hands clasped behind his back like a man preparing to give a speech or a lecture. In the same mien, he turned to the pregnant girl. "Why, Renee?" he asked.

"Why?" she repeated, as if she didn't comprehend.

"We know this was your idea," he went on. "The baby, or going after Dave, or maybe both. Why? What is it you want?"

She felt her face growing warmer, and stared at the floor to keep the others from seeing. "I...I don't know," she confessed. "Maybe...jus' someone to love me." She felt a comforting squeeze of the hands upon her shoulders, and felt a rush of gratitude warmer than her cheeks.

"But why Dave? You knew he was already involved with someone else."

She hesitated, but her master supplied an answer, one that only increased her shame. "That was probably why, Balthazar," snarled Horvath. "She told me she enjoys that kind of challenge."

"I see." The words were quiet, thoughtful, and Renee detected no anger. She dared to look up.

"Do you enjoy it now?" he asked her. "Now, when you can see what it does to other people, your family and friends...and now that there's another life involved? This isn't a game, Renee. You do know that, don't you?"

She stared as her cheeks grew wet with tears.

He wasn't finished. "Why didn't you tell us?" he continued. "Don't you think Dave has a right to know you're carrying his child? See, that's what doesn't make sense. If you really wanted him, you wouldn't keep it secret like that, and if you just wanted a baby, there are plenty of unattached men available. There's more to this than just wanting love, isn't there?"

She had to look away. _No_, she thought, _he can't know. Nobody must know._ She had done what Nana told her to do, but now she wasn't sure why. Nothing was working out the way it was supposed to. _I'm so confused, Nana. I don't even know what I want anymore. Help me._

Prosecutor Balthazar had one more question for her. "Does this have anything to do with the fact that Dave is the Prime Merlinian?"

Now she was too terrified to say anything at all. Fear made her clutch her sister's hand, hard enough to make the woman gasp, and tremble as she squeezed her eyelids shut.

That was answer enough. "Of course," noted her master Horvath. "It's all about power, isn't it? You knew you'd never be able to match Dave on the training floor, so you chose this avenue instead. Even if your offspring isn't stronger than his father, you can still use him for emotional blackmail. How very Morganian." Was that a trace of pride in his voice?

Dave stood. "Excuse me," he challenged, "but I think I should have a say in this whole thing. Renee, you used me...Becky _and_ me...to get what you wanted. I don't like being used. You wanna have a kid, that's your choice, but it wasn't mine. He's all yours. Don't expect me to be your puppet just because you wanna play your little power game. I'm not playing."

Fear reigned still, and confusion, but one thing the girl did know. Barely audible, she managed to force out the words: "I dinna want a puppet, Dave. Please..." _Believe me. I want to be loved, to be needed., to be special like you and like Maggie. That's the power I want._

Balthazar had turned to stare into the fire, just listening as the tension mounted in the room. When at last there was only taut silence, he closed his eyes briefly and sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. "So it comes to this," he said, and felt their gazes focused now on him. "We, meaning Dave and Renee, have to make things right."

"What do you mean?" Dave asked, knowing what he meant and dreading it.

"I mean," his master answered as he faced the Prime Merlinian, "you need to get married."

* * *

The moon was too bright. Tomorrow it would be full, but tonight was nearly as bad. It shone upon the black water of the lake behind the castle, its image returning time and again to mock the one who sought to banish it.

Dave hurled another rock. Again, the water's surface broke and the moonlight danced on the waves, only to settle once more into place. This was a losing battle.

The air was cold this far up in the lonely hills of England, here at the onset of Spring; cold and dark, but not nearly so dark as Dave's thoughts. He was angry: angry with Renee, angry with Balthazar and the others who agreed with him, even a little angry with his Becky. Mostly, though, he was angry with himself. Aloud, despairing, he demanded of the moon, "Why am I such a loser?"

"You're not," came the unexpected answer.

He spun. Behind him had come a figure in a long coat that smelled of rawhide and a hat that brought back memories of a steel eagle not yet built.

"Balthazar, what are you doing here? I told you, I wanted some time alone."

"You've had time alone," his master retorted. "You've been out here for more than four hours. It's nearly midnight, you know."

"I don't care." After the initial shock of betrayal–did Balthazar not care about what he wanted: namely, Becky?–the subsequent protests from himself and both girls, and the heated arguments that culminated in Dave's stormy exit, he'd been too lost in his own world to note the passage of time. "Go on, go to bed," he told the older man. "I'll be fine. You don't have to treat me like a child." The resentment was clear in his voice.

Balthazar just smiled. "You've got a pretty decent throwing arm," he remarked.

That caught his apprentice unprepared. "Huh?"

The master bent to pick up a suitable rock. Stepping to the edge of the lake, he flung the missile with an expert flick of the wrist. It skipped more than halfway across before sinking. "I've done this myself a few times," he said. "Is your wrist sore yet?"

Dave was still trying to shift mental gears. "Um..." Now that the question was asked, he did notice the pain, which only grew as he gave it his attention. "Yeah. Maybe I sprained it or something." He clasped it firmly in his other hand, and the support felt too good to let go. To his own surprise, he found that his anger had abated, at least enough to think a bit more clearly. "The answer is still 'no'," he insisted. "This isn't the Old West. We don't do shotgun weddings here."

"It's also not 2013 America," countered the other, referring to the time and place in which they would have been had not circumstances demanded otherwise. "Here, there's still such a thing as social stigma. Renee was willing to accept that when nobody else knew, even though it cast shame on the entire household. What she did was selfish, unquestionably. I don't think she realizes, even now, how much damage she did to her own and her family's reputation. People talk, you know."

"Yeah, well, that's her problem. I'm sorry for Maggie and Ben, but it's not my fault."

"You can't lay all the blame on Renee, Dave. You did play a part in it."

"She tricked me! I thought she was Becky! How was I supposed to know?"

Balthazar stood gazing out at the moonlit lake.

Dave relented. "I...I didn't know. I couldn't know. Could I?" He remembered, as he was certain that Balthazar did too, that night in his room with the hall door open, the night when it didn't matter, and his hands were heading for a place they shouldn't go, and only a timely interruption stopped them. Was it really just Renee who was responsible? Was her impersonation of his sweetheart on that second night really so flawless that he couldn't detect the deception? Maybe, just maybe, a part of him had known. Maybe Becky was right: maybe he did want her to be ...less honorable. He hated himself for thinking it, but he couldn't deny it outright.

"I love Becky," he said finally. "I told her so earlier tonight, before we went upstairs."

"But you fathered a child with Renee."

"I'll...I'll take care of the kid. I'll send money, clothes, whatever he needs. Renee doesn't want to marry me any more than I want to marry her."

"She says that, but she may not mean it." Balthazar favored him with a sideways glance. "She's been going through a lot of changes in her young life, especially in the last two or three years. What she needs, even if she doesn't know it, is stability, and someone to keep those burgeoning powers of hers under control. You're the only one who can do it."

"But what about Becky? I want her, not Renee. You got your happily ever after with Veronica. Why can't Becky and I have ours?"

Another smile, this time one of sad remembrance: "Someone very wise once told me, maybe life isn't about our happiness. Maybe it's about doing the right thing. I didn't like it then, and I don't like telling you now. In the end, though, it really did work out. However, there's one thing I don't think you've considered."

"What's that?"

"Isaac."

"The baby? What about him?"

"He's a sorcerer, Dave, and he's going to be at least as powerful as you, maybe even more so. Agatha picked up a clear signature from him, and he isn't even born yet. We can't afford to let a power like that go over to the Morganian side."

"Renee wouldn't..."

"Wouldn't she? Morgana is family to her. The other sorcerers at the estate are all trained Morganians. No, they're not enemies anymore, but they still have that Morganian worldview. How could Isaac be anything _but_ Morganian without you? Power is their number one temptation, and Renee isn't mature enough to resist it. She _will_ turn him against you. Hell hath no fury, as the saying goes."

"That's not fair, Balthazar. That's blackmail!"

"No, that's reality. I don't like it any more than you do, but that's the way it is. I've seen too much in my time to harbor any fantasies about human nature. Without a stronger influence for good, we all give in to the evil in our hearts." Balthazar let that sink in, then continued in a softer tone. "Isaac needs you, Dave. He needs a father; not just someone to visit once in a while, and maybe send him stuff, but a real father."

"What are you talking about?" This was a sore subject with Dave, and his impatience with it showed. "Half the kids in my school didn't have fathers–well, fathers who lived with them, anyway–and they seemed to be doing okay. What's the big deal?"

"Children do better in a stable, two-parent household, Dave. You know that."

"Fine. Then you and Veronica can adopt him."

"We would," came the sincere reply, "but we'd need his mother's consent as well as yours. Somehow, I can't see Renee giving up her child to anyone. As for you, I don't think you should give up your son so easily. That's a heavy decision. If you're too hasty, you may regret it for the rest of your life, no matter how close you are to the adoptive parents. They're still not you."

Blue eyes reflected the brightness of the moon as Balthazar turned his face upward. "Walk with me," he offered. "It's too cold to just stand in one place." They started a leisurely circuit around the perimeter of the lake, letting their thoughts go unspoken until they reached the shore farthest from the castle. There they stopped to take in the silhouette, a black stone structure atop the hill against a backdrop of stars. "Home," sighed the master. "Exactly like Merlin's time, but more than a thousand years later. I wish he could see it with us."

Dave had no idea what to say to that, so he said nothing. After a moment, Balthazar went on. "Master Alvar and I walked around this very lake back then, when I was going through some rough times and he was in his unrestored state; literally there in body but not spirit. He was a good sounding board."

Something clicked. "Alvar was your father figure even then, wasn't he?"

Nodding, Balthazar confirmed, "Father, yes, in everything but blood. It's a good role for him, and now he's filling that role for Ben, too. You've seen how the boy adores him, haven't you? That's the kind of relationship I wish I could have had at Ben's age, but my father rejected me, and my mother, before I took my first breath. I never knew the man."

"Well, if he was anything like my dad, you can count yourself lucky." The bitterness came unbidden as the memories resurfaced. Instinctively, he fought to push them back, as he did every time the subject came up. Some things were better left forgotten.

"Perhaps," conceded Alvar's former apprentice. "My master and I didn't always agree, and there were some pretty dark times, but we made it through. Still, I was born a bastard, and everyone knew it. They wouldn't let me forget."

"Yeah, kids can be really mean sometimes." Dave knew that, too, from his own experience.

"Who was your father figure, Dave?"

Again, Dave was caught off-guard. "I...um, I didn't have one," he stammered. "After my dad left us, my mom and me, we just...I don't know, didn't want anyone else in our lives. We were rejected, too, just like you. Maybe Mom was too scared to try again. Anyway..." He felt sheepish. Shrugging, he admitted, "I guess you're the closest thing I have to one."

"And that was only after you'd been in college for two years," Balthazar pointed out. "It was a little late by then." He stooped to retrieve another rock, then skipped it across the lake. "A father's rejection is a tough thing to get over. It can make you feel like a real loser, no matter how successful the rest of the world thinks you are. Do you really want to do that to your son?" He began the trek back to the castle, continuing the circuit they'd started, while Dave walked silently beside him.

Balthazar waited until they reached the bottom of the slope. There he finished his argument. "I can't order you to do this, Dave. It has to be your decision, yours and Renee's. You know I'll support you, whatever you decide. All I ask is that you consider the consequences, not just for yourself, but for Isaac and the role he can play in history. I don't think I need to elaborate."

Dave stared wordlessly at the dark figure beside him. Typical Balthazar, he thought, always trying to look at the bigger picture at the expense of the personal one. That was the Merlinian way, and Dave was supposed to be its prime example. "Let me think about it," he finally replied. The burden of responsibility weighed heavily on his shoulders

Balthazar assented, and the pair returned to the castle without speaking further. There was no need.

* * *

"You didn't come home last night."

Renee nodded, even though the spirit couldn't see. "I'm sorry, Nana," she apologized. "It was gettin' awfully late, an' we were too tired to make the trip back." Horvath and the sisters had returned this morning after a late breakfast at the castle, a light meal for Renee, who was still too distraught to eat much. Horvath barely spoke to her, except to let her know that her training was suspended until she was fit to resume. "Please don' be angry wi' me, Nana," she begged. She moved her hand along the outer edges of the open book in her lap as if in loving caress.

"Tell me, what happened after you sent me away? Do they know?"

"Nae. I didna tell anyone aboot you. They know I'm workin' on the Fusion Spell, but I'm nowhere near tae gettin' it. They canna suspec' Edgar was your host las' night."

"Excellent. I was afraid your master had used the mind touch on you. That would have been...difficult." Like all apprentices, Renee had learned to defend herself against such an intrusion, but a powerful sorcerer like Horvath could force his way past. Inevitably, both parties would suffer in such a battle, with the added risk of permanent damage to the loser. For this reason, Merlinians used the skill only with the subject's permission, or as a last resort to gain vital information from an enemy. Morganians placed no such limits on themselves.

"He didna have to," the Morganian apprentice conceded with a mixture of embarrassment and relief. "I tol' them what they wanted to know. Nobody asked aboot you, so I didna have to say anything."

"Good. It was good to have senses again, and the freedom of movement. It's too bad the animal can't speak, or I would have kept his body until a better one came up. As it is, I still need this book to communicate with you."

Renee nodded again, but something in Nana's comment stirred her mind to worry. There was something ominous in it, a warning she couldn't name. To distract herself, she told her comrade all that had transpired since the raven was sent from the castle.

"They're pressuring me, Nana," she complained. "They want me tae marry Dave–the baby's father–before Isaac is born. I canna marry him, though. It's not that I don' want to, but..."

"But what? You haven't allowed yourself to develop feelings for him, have you?" Suspicious disapproval tinged the question.

The girl pulled her hand back from the open book, momentarily breaking contact. It was an unconscious gesture, meant to keep the master from hearing her scion's thoughts. Renee did indeed have qualms–about her own goals, about what she'd done to Dave and even her human friend Becky, and about the true nature of her Nana–that she knew better than to share. Reluctantly, she lowered her hand again. "I'm sorry, Nana," she apologized for the interval of silence. "Nae, I dinna love him. He is a Prime, though. He's the on'y partner I'd have, if he didna already love someone else. Even if he did want me, I couldna marry him. We'd share a bedroom. He'd find out aboot you."

"No, that can't happen," the ghostly voice agreed. "Although..."

"What, Nana?"

"If I were freed from the confines of this book, from this..._other_ place that holds me, we wouldn't need to have these secret sessions. I could communicate with you at _my_ leisure. Also, with that freedom of movement I'd regain, that would mean...Merlin's training room. I want access. Yes, if you were to move into the castle, I could use a closer subject. I could use..."

"Use what? Edgar? I dinna think they'll let him in again."

"No, not Edgar, child. Take me to the bird's owner, the servant without any friends. It's time for me to practice on a human."

* * *

She greeted her visitor without preamble. "Horvath said ye wanted to talk wi' me." The words were flat, resigned as her face and demeanor. The spirited girl was gone, replaced by a woman much older, one who had lost more than her innocence.

They were alone in the parlor of the estate on a quiet Saturday afternoon, not quite one week after the party at the castle. It was the first time the pair had spoken since that day.

"Yeah." Dave nodded, as serious as she. "I want to know what your plans are. Neither of us wants to get married: we both know it would be nothing more than a sham. Am I right?"

She gave him no immediate answer, but instead looked away and moved to the nearest chair. There she sat, and her guest followed her example uninvited. With a sigh, she rested her chin on one hand and focused her gaze on the floor midway between the room's occupants. "My plans..." she mused. "I dinna have any, really. I jus' want this baby. I wanted you, aye, but ye willna have me." Her voice cracked then with sorrow. "Ye hate me, I know, for doin' what I did. I understand. Tha's why I didna want tae tell you."

"But I'm the father, Renee! You had to know I'd find out eventually."

"I suppose," she conceded. "Still, ye dinna have to feel tied tae me because o' him. Ye can keep your Becky, and I'll keep my son. We can go away, Isaac an' me, an' ye'll never have to see either of us ever again."

The offer was tempting. Freedom beckoned, and the promise of the future he'd always wanted. The future...

Where he'd never see his son, but would have to be content with wondering: where was Isaac? What was he being taught, about magic and Morgana and his father? Would he seek out the man who sired him, someday when he was grown and his loyalties established? What was there to stop his mother from taking him overseas, perhaps to America, to a certain little shop in Manhattan? How would history react?

Suddenly, Renee's offer wasn't so tempting after all. Dave sighed. "No," he answered. "I don't want you to go away. I want to be part of my son's life."

"But nae mine," she added bitterly. "Ye want him, but nae me. Well, I'll nae give him up. I don' need you, Dave. Ye asked if marriage would be a sham. Aye, it would, if ye canna find room for aught but hatred o' me. I willna live that way."

"I don't hate you." The response was automatic and therefore unconvincing. He took a few moments to settle his own thoughts before voicing them to his hostess. "I hate what you did to me, yeah," he admitted. "I hate this situation. It should never have happened, but it did. Now we have to live with it."

She shrugged. "I tol' you, I don' need you. Ye don' have to live with it if you don' want to, an' I know you don't. Ye certainly don' want to live wi' me." Sadness tinged her words, more than the bitterness she sought to conceal behind a pose of unconcern. She gave a rueful smile. "We'd prolly fight all the time, anyhow, and that's nae good for any bairn to hear."

"What?" Dave straightened in his chair, surprised. His own past came back, memories of anger and violence he hated but couldn't escape. Would he become his father? The man had abused alcohol, and then his own family before he walked out of their lives. Was the son destined to follow the same path? Would he take out his frustration on those he ought rather to defend? It was a troubling thought.

Renee waited: though she couldn't know why, her unhappy point had found its mark.

No. Dave shook his head. _I am NOT my father_, he reminded himself firmly. _I'm nothing like him, and I don't ever want to become like him, not ever._ The past would always be there, but he didn't have to let it determine his future. He would be a better man than that.

He met the girl's gaze without further hesitation. "No," he said. "No, we wouldn't fight all the time. I've learned a lot these last few years, including what it means to take an oath. If we do this, I'm gonna do it with my eyes wide open." Now it was his turn to smile, if only a tiny bit. "Besides," he added, "we got along okay when I still lived here at the manor. I mean, sure, we were training competitors, and there was the issue of you not taking 'no' for an answer, but otherwise we got along just fine. We do have a lot in common. I don't see why we can't still be friends." It helped, too, that she wasn't trying to force him into a commitment. She neither asked nor expected any support from him, but was willing to accept the burden of parenthood alone. He had to respect her for that.

He rose. "Well, I'd better be getting back now," he said. "I'm glad we had this talk. It helped to clarify some things for me."

Renee climbed to her feet as well. She nodded, but didn't meet her visitor's eyes. "Awright," she acknowledged, and he was happy to note that the bitterness was gone. "I'm glad you came, Dave. Aye, I'd like to still be friends. I'll nae hope for anythin' more."

* * *

Over the next few days, Dave found it harder and harder to concentrate on anything but the deadline looming near. He began to skip meals, to make avoidable mistakes with his project, and then to avoid the others when he could.

The day came when he didn't show up in the training room at all. His master found him still in his room when the morning was nearly spent. Dave lay curled up atop the covers on his bed, clutching his pillow and staring with unblinking eyes.

"You look awful," Balthazar declared.

"Go away," replied the zombie on the bed.

"You've decided, haven't you?"

"How can you tell?"

"I can read your mind, remember?" The words were gentle, the smile sad and sympathetic. "I don't know _what_ you've decided, but I think I can guess. Will you tell me?"

Dave's voice was empty, defeated. "It doesn't matter, really. I lose either way." He sighed. "I'm the Prime Merlinian. I don't have the luxury of thinking only about myself."

"I'm sorry, Dave."

"It's not your fault. I got myself into this mess. I made a choice, and now I have to accept the consequence." He struggled to a sitting position and met his master's gaze. "Yeah, I've made my decision, Balthazar. I'm going to do the right thing."


	15. A new family

And so it was done. At the chapel on the Masters estate, Dave and his bride went through with the ceremony, but there was no joy on this day, only resignation and acceptance of a duty fulfilled. Becky was gone: she and Horvath had taken their leave the previous day, back to their residence in London. She took her belongings with her.

The newlyweds emerged from the chapel into a beautiful Spring day that should have been one of celebration. The guests offered their congratulations, trying to make the best of it and trusting that the union would someday be a happy one.

Maggie pulled her sister into an encouraging embrace. She and Ben showered Renee with the enthusiasm that the bride herself lacked, giving sisterly advice and childhood joy at the joining of their houses. Renee was still uncertain; still afraid of the changes in her life, and despondent in the knowledge that her husband loved another. She searched the faces of the servants in the crowd until she found the one she sought. Edgar perched upon the shoulder of his owner. The pair hung back, under the shadow of the trees, away from everyone else. The old man's eyes met hers, and he nodded. _Yes_, she thought. _Nana will be with me. I won't be all alone._ She allowed herself to relax then, just a little, as her spirits lifted enough for her to smile.

Meanwhile, Alvar and Balthazar had the groom to themselves. "For what it's worth," Dave's master informed him, "I do think you made the right decision."

"Yeah, I know you do," his apprentice replied. The bitterness had passed, along with the accusations of elitist sorcerer bias against his beloved, the serious consideration of simply eloping with Becky back to America, or even of using his own power to kill the babe within the Morganian's womb. All of that was discarded now. It was unworthy of any grown man, let alone the Prime Merlinian. "Maybe Renee was right. Maybe sorcerers should stick to their own kind, not get involved with...humans." He was using Morganian terminology now, but it somehow seemed fitting in this case. Even Becky had echoed that sentiment, during their last sad hour of farewell.

Alvar clapped a hand on the young man's shoulder. "It will work out, Dave," he asserted. "Don't think of this marriage as punishment for an indiscretion. Renee really isn't _that_ bad. She's just a girl, feeling scared and alone. She needs you. Give her your support. Take care of her and your son, be the best husband and father you can be, and you'll find her a worthy companion. I have no doubt of that. In time, you may even grow to love her."

"Maybe." Dave was far from certain, but what other choice did he have?

"You'll have our support," said Balthazar. "Mine, Veronica's, and Master Alvar's, whenever you need it." He glanced across the clearing to Renee, still with her sister and Ben. "And Renee will have it, too. She's part of your family now."

Dave forced a sickly grin. "Thanks," he managed. "Well, um...I guess I should go help her pack now. We want to be moved in tonight."

"What, no honeymoon?" The rebuke was clearly not serious; Balthazar knew as well as anyone that Renee was in no shape for romance. Dave's room at the castle had been undergoing renovation ever since he'd announced his decision, so that it was now ready for the couple.

"Yeah, I think we'll have to skip the honeymoon," confirmed the groom without humor. "You're taking Maggie back with you, right?" With Renee's due date so near, Maggie had asked to stay at the castle until the birth and the days immediately after. Her sister would need her, she believed.

Balthazar nodded. "Go ahead, then," he allowed. "We'll see you both tonight."

* * *

Her clothes were packed, along with the personal items she'd accumulated in her time spent at the estate. Only a foot locker remained: this was where Renee's Encantus was kept atop her precious mementos from her life before the move.

"You want me to get that for you?" her husband offered.

She shook her head. "Nae, but thanks. I'll get it. Jus' make sure there's enou' space for it in the car, awright?" She sat heavily on top of the trunk in question.

"Sure. You, um, don't seem real excited about this, Renee. You gonna be okay?"

She took a moment to consider, but finally found an answer. "I suppose so," she said. "It's nae exactly wha' I'd thought my wedding day would be..."

"Yeah, me too," he concurred, before realizing that the comment only made his bride feel worse. He coughed to hide his shame, then choked out, "I...I'm sorry, Renee. I didn't mean..."

"I understand." She did, and he couldn't deny it.

"Um, are you sure you don't want me to get your locker?" he asked, more to change the subject than anything else.

"I'm sure. It holds a lot of memories for me, an' I don' want anyone else touchin' it. Please understand, Dave. It's nothin' against you. Get out to the car wi' ye, then. I want tae say good-bye to my frien' Edgar. I'll join you shortly." The raven had been banned from the castle since the day of Agatha's party. As the bird was Renee's Fusion Spell practice subject, this would have presented a hardship for the girl had she been allowed to continue. As it was, though, since her master had suspended her training, she would have ample time to find another animal at the castle.

"Okay. I'll, um...I'll be out front, then, when you're ready." He backed hastily out of the room.

She waited until he was gone, and then a few seconds more to gather the strength to stand. At last she rose. From the trunk, she retrieved the book more dear to her than her Encantus, the one entrusted to her family for generations past. A plain brown cloth covered it for protection from the prying eyes of strangers.

Out to the hovel in back she carried it, to the outer fringe of the servants' cluster of cottages sheltered by trees all around. Edgar and his owner awaited her arrival.

"We're ready," she said.

The man before her stood unsmiling. She laid the cloth aside to reveal her Book of Incantations, then held out the tome toward her host.

He made no move to accept it. "You know what to do?" he croaked in a voice harsh from lack of use. "You won't keep me waiting, right?"

"Right. I'll make sure we find someone there to take over."

"Good. Make it a priority." With that command, he reached a bony hand out to contact the offered book. Immediately, his body stiffened, and his rheumy eyes lost focus as the conquering spirit within transferred itself back to its temporary prison.

When it was over, Renee covered the book once again. A quick pass of her ring before the man's face brought him back to himself with only his memory altered. He would remember nothing of his subjugation, or even of the conqueror's existence. Only the raven knew, and Edgar wasn't talking.

* * *

The Blakes made a special effort to make their new housemate feel welcome. Veronica, and Renee's sister Maggie, helped the girl unpack her things in the room she would now share with Dave. Only the foot locker was directed by the sole effort of its owner, who sent it gliding into place beside the walnut vanity. The women talked of moving and marriage and children, of what the bride could reasonably expect to happen in this strange new phase of her life. When all was arranged to her satisfaction, Renee sat down on the wide bed that had replaced Dave's smaller one. Her feet hurt.

"Thank ye both for helpin'," she told her assistants. "It's nae really like I'm in a foreign land–Dragon Castle's been like a second home tae me ever since it was built–but it's diff'rent, somehow, bein' here for good. I canna quite grasp it yet."

Veronica rewarded her honesty with a smile. "You've very welcome," she said. "We understand. Is there anything else we can do to help you feel more comfortable? Would you like me to send in your husband?"

"Nae, not yet. Could I...would you mind if I jus' rested here for a bit? I'm verra tired."

"Of course. I'll have someone come to fetch you later on for dinner, if you're feeling up to it."

"Thank ye, Veronica. You're verra kind."

Maggie stayed behind to help her sister change. The formal ivory dress (white would obviously have been inappropriate) was folded and laid aside, to be replaced by a long, pale green maternity nightgown. It had belonged to the elder sibling once, but Maggie hadn't worn it since her son was weaned. "I always liked this gown," the redhead mused aloud. "I was hoping to use it for many children, but after Paul died..." She paused, remembering, then finished her thought. "Well, I'm glad to see I didn't keep it for nothing." She turned down the covers for her sister and helped the younger woman climb in. "Sleep well, Mrs. Stutler," she said gently, and left Renee to her rest.

* * *

She woke to a stranger's touch upon her shoulder, and a girl's voice calling her by an unfamiliar name.

"Mrs. Stutler? Mrs. Stutler? Wake um, mum, please."

Renee opened her sleepy eyes. "Hmm?" She yawned. "Who are you?" she inquired when she could speak again. "What d'ya want?"

"My name is Jane, mum. Mistress Blake sent me to tell you it's suppertime, and to help you get ready if you want."

Renee considered telling the girl to go away, to just let her be. She was too tired to eat right now, she thought...until her empty stomach sent its pangs of protest. "All right," she acquiesced without enthusiasm. She sat up carefully while her designated servant hovered, uncertain of what to do. Jane looked young, just barely out of childhood. "How old are you?" asked the new resident.

"Fourteen, mum, old enough to be your personal handmaid, if you'll have me."

"Maybe." Renee had no desire for a personal handmaid; such a shadow would only impede her search for a suitable host for Nana. Then her eyes narrowed. Yes, of course...

"Jane," she requested, "I have something in my foot locker that I'd like you to see, a book wrapped in brown cloth. Will you bring it to me, please?"

The transfer took mere seconds. When the girl's hand withdrew from its contact with the Spell Book, it was the movement of a woman far older, the uncertainty of youth replaced with the confidence of a master sorcerer. The spirit of Morgana had claimed her newest host.

Jane's face twisted in a sneer. "These humans are so easy," the conqueror noted with contempt. "They have no resistance at all."

"Is this one all right? You said to make it a priority..."

"She'll do, for now. I'm not happy with her low status, though. As your..." She paused, then spat out the term she detested... "Your _servant_, she's expected to be in constant attendance upon you. As a half-grown whelp, she's inferior even to the other humans here. I had hoped for someone with more autonomy."

"I'm sorry, Nana. Now that you have control of her body, though, you can look around the castle until you find someone better. You can just move straight over, then, right?"

"It's not that simple."

Renee drew back, surprised at the annoyance in her ancestor's voice. "It's not?"

"I still need the book for that, unfortunately. It's my only gateway, I've discovered. Without a living host, I'm stuck in that other place where I can't sense anything, even time. I'm still tied to it, somehow, even now. However, if I destroy the book now, I'll be stuck in this pathetic body. I can't move to another without going through my Spell Book."

"Oh. But you promised you wouldn't stay in someone else's body permanently; just long enou' to see me an' Isaac, you said."

"Yes, I did say that, didn't I?"

The words had an undertone of something dark, something that made Renee shift uncomfortably. "You meant it, right?" she queried, suspicious.

The younger girl stared at her scornfully. "I don't plan to keep this body, no," she assured the other with disdain. "As long as my soul is trapped in that other place, my power here is limited by what my host can do. The bird couldn't talk, so I couldn't talk while I possessed it. This brat is weak even by human standards. She's not worth keeping any longer than I need to. When I find someone stronger, when the time is right, I fully intend to leave this host behind. Satisfied?"

Renee wasn't, but she let the subject drop. Nana was displeased with her, and she didn't know how to deal with that. Lately, the spirit had grown more domineering than guiding, less interested in her scion's well-being than her own. Renee resented that, but she was too afraid to show it. She was afraid that her Nana would think her unworthy of her lineage, or maybe even desert her entirely. She missed the friendship she thought they'd shared at first.

Her stomach rumbled again, louder. She sighed. "I guess I should go have some supper."

* * *

Dave was still awake that night when the contractions started. He lay next to his wife, arms folded behind his head, staring up into the dark, when he felt her stir beside him. She moaned.

"Renee?" he called quietly, and with the beginnings of alarm. This was their first night together, and neither knew the other's sleeping habits. Was this normal for her?

He heard the change in her breathing now; short, staggered inhalations like little gasps, then something close to a strangled scream. Her hand clutched his and squeezed. Her body jerked again.

That was enough. A thought was sufficient to light the oil lamp on its nightstand by the bed. He sat up and threw back the bedcovers, twisting toward his partner to see what he could do. Frightened green eyes peered back at him, the pale green nightgown heaving under the hand upon her abdomen. "Dave," she squeaked, "I think..." Another spasm cut her off.

He was out of bed in a flash, the stone floor cold against his bare feet. A simple paging system had been installed; a single button in the center of a square metal plate in the wall, which was wired to a bell in the room next door to theirs. He pressed the button twice, thrice, then returned to the bedside to await the one he'd summoned. He tried to reassure his wife. "You're gonna be fine, Renee," he told her. "Don't worry, I'm right here." He smiled tensely and allowed her to claim his hand once more.

Jane arrived within a few moments. She'd had the presence of mind to pull on a robe and slippers, and seemed remarkably calm for having been awakened so abruptly. "Yes, Master Dave?" she inquired.

"Jane, we need you to get Maggie," he ordered, not calmly at all. "Hurry! We think it might be time. Oh, and you should probably tell Balthazar and Veronica, too."

"Yes, sir." She gave him a slight bow and retreated.

When she was gone, the young couple had only to wait. Dave fought the panic, for his own sake and that of the woman beside him. He tried to remember everything he'd learned about labor. "It might be a false alarm," he said. "How far apart are the contractions?" He was trying to sound professional, as if he knew anything about the subject.

"I dunno," answered his new wife, straining. "They're pretty close. Besides..." She swallowed, clearly embarrassed, then revealed, "I, um...it feels wet...down there."

"Your water broke already?" Oh boy. He glanced toward the door and willed the midwife to hurry.

When the others came, Maggie took charge immediately. She sent the men outside, into the hall to wait, while she and Jane and Veronica attended to business inside.

"Nervous?" asked Balthazar needlessly. When his apprentice nodded, he continued, "No need to be, Dave. They're in good hands, you'll see."

'Yeah, I know, but..."

"But?"

"It's...I don't know, too soon. I mean, we just got married today. I'm not even used to being a husband yet, much less a father."

"It's going to take a while, I know." Balthazar understood, despite important differences in their situations. "It's a big change in your life, either one by itself, but now you have both of them at once. It's all good, though, in the end. You'll be fine."

"If you say so." Dave wanted to be convinced, but right now the doubt was overwhelming.

"Do you want some time off from your project? Chandra and I can get by for a little bit by ourselves, working on stuff that doesn't require you to be there."

"No!" Of that much, Dave had no doubt at all. "I need it, the project. It's the only stable thing I have left."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Well, all right, but you are taking off tomorrow. Renee and your son are going to need you."

"She has Maggie. She doesn't need me."

"It's not the same, Dave. Give yourself one day, at least, to be with your family, to give yourself a chance to adjust." He saw the look of imminent protest, and quickly added, "That's an order."

A thin wail came through the closed door of the Stutler's bedroom. Dave paled, but his master happily smiled. "Congratulations, Dave," he said. "You're a father now."

* * *

Maggie returned to the estate a few days later, when she was sure that her sister and baby nephew were getting along well in their new castle home. "Call me if you need anything," she instructed. "We'll see you on Saturday anyway, so you can introduce Isaac to everyone, but I can come over even tomorrow if you want me to."

"Thank 'e, Maggie," the young mother responded with genuine gratitude. "I dinna know what I'd have done wi'out ye." Yes, Jane had been a dutiful (if reluctant) servant, and her husband was trying hard to fulfill the responsibilities of his role, but it was good to have family at her side. Much as she resented the honor given to her sibling because of her natural healing ability, she couldn't help being thankful for that ability now.

The healer gave her an affectionate hug. "You'll be fine," she assured the younger woman. "You have lots of help here, lots of support. I know it's a bit overwhelming when you have your first child, but at least you have a husband here for you." She paused a little sadly, remembering her own days as a recently widowed mother. "Honestly, Renee," she went on then, "you should have told Dave when you first found out you were expecting. He's a good lad; you should have known he'd do the right thing by you, and it would have been easier on both of you if you'd had some time to get used to the idea."

Renee didn't answer. How could she? None of this was what she'd intended for her life. The pregnancy, the rushed wedding, and the necessary halt to her sorcerer training; all of them were done at the behest of another. She found the focus of her resentment beginning to waver. It frightened her, where that focus was shifting, and she fought to keep it in place. She couldn't afford to alienate a sorcerer more powerful than she.

"Well, what's done is done," Maggie finished. "You've a family of your own now, and I hope they bring you happiness, despite being forced together." She gave Renee a gentle smile. "You're still my little sister, and I'll always love you, even if we don't agree on a lot of things. Just remember that, all right?"

Renee could only nod. She tried to smile in return; the effort was only partially successful. She wished suddenly that Maggie would stay, or that they were back in their mountain chalet, where life was lonely but at least uncomplicated. A fleeting thought came unbidden to her mind: she wished she'd never touched or even seen the book.

Maggie's carriage was waiting. She took her leave, and Renee went back to her studies. If she couldn't actively train, she could still keep reading her Encantus.

* * *

"The child suspects," said the girl in a tone much older than her years. She took the babe from his mother's arms, to tuck him into his nursery bassinet beside the nanny's bed. Agatha's crib stood against another wall.

"Who?"

"The Blake girl, Agatha. I tried to tell her parents that she's just not used to me–she had another nanny before Isaac was born–but I don't think they believe me. The wretched girl is beginning to see through the camouflage I put up. I don't know how much longer I'll be able to stay in this body."

Renee was almost afraid to ask. "Have ye...is there someone else ye can use?"

"Perhaps," was the enigmatic answer. "I want to choose someone special, not just the first subject who comes along. My host is limited; therefore, so am I. I want someone who isn't limited. I want a host who can handle magic."

"Not a sorcerer?!"

"Why not? I'm strong enough now to do it." The innocent face wasn't enough to conceal the determination in the girl's eyes. "You like a challenge, don't you?" she reminded her scion. "Where do you think that attitude came from?"

"But...they're my friends! An' family." Somehow, what was acceptable practice on an animal or human was _not_ acceptable on those who the Morganian thought superior.

"Personal attachments?" Jane's voice accused. "I thought we already went through this. _I_ am your friend, your only true family. We share the same blood, and the same power. You don't need anyone else."

Now Renee was entirely confused. "But...Isaac? Why did ye tell me tae...if ye didna wan' me gettin' attached to anyone? An' then, ye tol' me tae go ahead an' get married. How can I not care aboot what happens tae them?"

"You've grown weak, girl." Nana was clearly irritated. "Your offspring is your key to control. You bring him up to obey you: then he, with the magic he wields, will do whatever you want. He must be loyal only to his mother. As for the boy you married..." She sneered. "Use him, for tutoring with magic and this project of his, and for supporting you against any who oppose you. He's your tool, just as Isaac will be. I thought you knew that."

"But..." Isaac's mother objected, knowing her objections were futile, "it's...it's jus' not right."

"You need to get over this importance you place on what you think is right. You're a Morganian, girl, one of my own. I'll not have you second-guessing me."

Renee hung her head. "I'm sorry, Nana," she apologized. "Will ye at least tell me when you're ready, so I can bring the one ye want?" Physical contact with the gateway, the book, was a necessity for the transfer; it had been easy to force the lesser beings, but a sorcerer would have to be tricked into it. Renee wasn't at all sure she could do it, or even that she wanted to. She left the room before her son's nanny could scold her any more.

* * *

A little more than two weeks after Dave and Renee were married, Mrs. Stutler still couldn't shake the impression that she didn't belong. Dave found her in their bedroom when he came to take his shower after work. She was feeding their son in the rocking chair under the window, but was otherwise alone.

"Where's Jane?" he asked.

"I sent her away," his wife replied dully.

"What, again? I thought she was supposed to be your personal assistant. What did you have her do this time? Laundry again? Washing baby bottles?"

"It doesn't matter."

Dave frowned in the middle of pulling off his shirt. He tossed the soiled garment in the hamper, then stood in the bathroom doorway, considering. "Um, Renee?" he began. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Dave," she said. "I'm fine."

Uh-oh. He knew what that phrase meant, but he didn't know the reason. He thought about taking her at her word and just continuing to go about his business, but even someone as socially awkward as he knew better than to let it go at that. With a sigh, he sat on the bed and faced her. "Okay, what's the matter? What did I do? Or is it something I didn't do that I should have?"

She shook her head. "It's not you, Dave, really," she claimed. "I know ye've been tryin' to be a good husband tae me, an' I really appreciate it. I've even gotten used to sleepin' in a bed wi' someone besides jus' me. I like when ye hold me; it feels good."

"But...?"

She took her time answering. When she did, it was with her head bowed so that he couldn't see her face "I know...I'm not her."

Becky. Dave closed his eyes, and she was there in his mind again, those beautiful blue eyes filled with love for him, but quickly overcome with a hurt that broke his heart, a hurt he'd planted there when he betrayed that love she offered. Would she ever be able to forgive him?

Well, that was in the past. He'd done what he had to do, and she'd said she understood. They'd parted as friends, though no longer anything more. She had a career she loved, and more than ample prospects of finding someone new. She was moving on, and that was the way it should be.

Meanwhile, there was Renee. They both knew that theirs was a loveless marriage. Other than that, though, he had to admit that it was a good match. Like him, she'd accepted the challenges of sorcerer training, what was expected of the Primes that even the elites couldn't do. Like him, also, she loved to learn, and she'd even shown interest in the workings of his project. Once Isaac was weaned, he'd promised to let her join him in his research and experimentation. And then there was Isaac himself... Dave stared at the infant suckling at his mother's breast. Slowly, it dawned on him that this baby...their son...was becoming more important to him than he'd ever expected. He was a father...no, a_ daddy_ now, and that was the one thing he wouldn't change if he could.

He reached out to stroke the wisps of Isaac's dark hair that would soon grow into curls. His hand wandered; first up, to touch his wife's bare breast, then further, to her bowed cheek. He lifted her face to meet his. "Renee," he said softly, "Becky's gone. Yeah, I still love her...heck, I've wanted her since I was ten. It's going to take a while to get over someone like that, but I"m willing to try. It just takes time. We've all made our choices. Maybe it's not what you or I wanted, but we have to accept it. You and I, and Isaac, we're a family now. I'm willing to make this marriage work. Are you?"

She peered at him, searching for the truth of his words. No, he found himself thinking, you're not Becky, but you're not a bad second choice. Renee was pretty in her own right; he wouldn't mind looking at her through all the years to come. No, her eyes weren't the deep blue of a tropical sea, but instead shone green like a summer forest. That wasn't so bad. No, her hair wasn't the cascade of golden sunlight that Becky sported, but instead was a mass of rippling brunette curls, allowed to grow now that its owner had settled into married life. It was...touchable. Renee was touchable.

With this realization, he volunteered, "I like when I hold you, too. It feels good to me, too." He smiled, and she at last smiled in return.


	16. Predator strike

Something had changed. Renee spent the morning with Veronica and Agatha, who by this time had overcome her fear of the magic pony and was steering it all over the playground. The mothers watched and shared in the little girl's delight.

"She really likes it now, huh?" Renee observed. 'I didna think Horvath had it in him tae take such care wi' a gift." Her master had shown no such obvious affection toward anyone else, certainly, least of all his apprentice.

Veronica smiled. "Horvath is a man of great passions," she explained. "From what I've been told, his hatred of Balthazar was his consuming passion for over a thousand years. Before that, I was his passion. He sought power to defeat his rival and take vengeance on all that we Merlinians held dear. It was his reaction to being rejected, not a true agreement with Morganian principles. Now that passion has a new object." She nodded toward her daughter. "He knew he could never have me, but he can give his love to Agatha. She can return it without reservation. Balthazar and I made the right decision when we asked Horvath to be our child's godfather."

"But you said he wanted power even when he thought he _did_ have you." Renee was referring to the time when the three elites had been stranded in the past, without memory but with sorcerer powers intact.

"Yes," the other woman confessed. "A thousand years of living as a Morganian doesn't go away overnight. Dark magic corrupts the very soul; it takes a long time to recover from that. Besides, Horvath always did think of us as being superior. That was just part of his personality, and was probably why he crossed the line so easily. In the end, though, he came back to us, when Morgana wasn't around to tempt him to evil anymore."

"You really think Morgana was evil?"

"I'm sorry, Renee. I know you admire her."

"She's my family matriarch."

Veronica was silent for a few minutes, simply watching her daughter at play. At length, she asked, "What would your family matriarch think of you now, Renee?"

It was meant to be a hypothetical question, but for Morgana's descendant, it had a real–and discouraging–answer. "She...she's nae happy wi' me."

"Not happy?" Mrs. Blake probed. "You speak as if you know this. How is that?"

Hastily, her companion looked away. "I...um, I don't actually know," she lied. "Tha's jus' what I think she'd think, if she were really here."

"Mm-hmm. All right, then, why do you think Morgana wouldn't be happy with you?"

"Well, I'm living wi' her enemies, for one thing. I even married one of 'em, an' I had his baby."

"She would rather have you fight us?"

"O' course."

"And _would_ you fight us now if she told you to?"

"Are ye tryin' tae make me choose sides?"

Veronica smiled again. "Maybe you already have," she said. "We were Morgana's enemies, but we're not yours. You don't have to follow her teachings just because she's your ancestor. We accept you as you are."

"Do ye? Even after I did wha' I did to Dave? I'd make a verra bad Merlinian."

"You're probably right. However, the war is over, isn't it? Please don't keep it going by thinking of us as your family enemies. Don't you see? You're one of us now, Renee. Yes, we do accept you, but you need to accept us, too. It's the only way you'll find peace."

Mrs. Stutler said nothing more, but merely sat in silence beside her fellow sorcerer. Peace, Veronica had mentioned. Peace was very far away right now; Renee's thoughts were a tangled mass of uncertainty. It really did come down to a choice, she knew. Reluctantly, she had to acknowledge that the other woman was right. Maybe that choice was already made. She steeled her jaw; she knew what she had to do.

* * *

Jane appeared in the doorway of the upper room, holding a fussing baby Isaac. "Just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded of the room's sole occupant.

Renee spun away from the blazing hearth with the Book of Incantations still in her hands. "Nana!" she exclaimed. "You followed me!"

"Your son is hungry. I followed you so you could feed him. Now answer my question, girl. What are you doing up here with the book?"

"I...wanted to read it some more, in private." The excuse sounded weak even to Renee's own ears.

Unsurprisingly, Nana didn't believe her. "You've been keeping your distance from me lately. Why? Don't tell me you prefer the company of these Merlinians over me. They don't want you to develop your power. They want to hold you back, just as Merlin wanted to hold me back. They see you as nothing but a threat to be kept under their control."

"No! Tha's not true! They've taken me in, even knowing who and what I am. Maybe they do want tae keep me fro' gettin' too powerful for them..."

"Then you admit that I'm right." Jane moved closer.

"_Maybe_ you're right, abou' tha' part. Maybe they are afraid o' me. It's up to me tae prove they've got nothin' to fear."

"What are you saying?" The younger girl and her precious burden came nearer still, to Renee and the Spell Book and the fire.

The Prime Morganian drew herself up. "I'm saying," she announced, "I've made my choice. I've found what I've always wanted here...or the potential for it, anyway. I'm nae aboot to throw it all away." She clutched the book tighter. "I'm gonna destroy your gateway. You're never gettin' tha' sorcerer host ye wanted."

"You would leave this pathetic human girl to be subjugated for the rest of her life?"

"I'm sorry aboot Jane, but I have tae do this. I canna trust you or meself tae make sure the others are safe fro' either of us." She made ready to pitch the book into the fire.

"If the book burns, so does he."

Renee turned in horror. Yes, Nana was serious. "Ye...ye wouldna...my son...but he's of your blood! Your own family!"

"Obviously, I can't trust even my own family. You've been tainted, girl, and so has your brat. He's half Merlinian. I could overcome that weakness in him, but only if I have a sorcerer's power. Without it, my bloodline will be forever compromised. So, it's your decision. Give me what I want, or the baby dies. You can't move fast enough to stop me."

The baby's mother hesitated. With a malicious grin, the nanny took hold of a tiny ankle and dangled her charge upside down, close now and ever closer to the flame. Isaac's cry of hunger became a terrified scream.

"All right!"

Instantly, the babe was snatched back from the threat, out of immediate danger but still near enough to be imminent.

Sobbing, Renee knew she was beaten. "Wha..wha would ye have me do?" she queried.

"Hold out the book so I can touch it."

It happened so quickly that she had no chance to resist. In a single breath, the tidal wave that was the spirit of Morgana swept out of its human host, through the open gateway and into its final destination. Renee's body stiffened. She screamed, or thought she did, as the flood of the master's power overwhelmed her. She struggled, though she made no visible move, and the struggle was already lost. Morgana had control.

"Now," said the voice that had once been Renee's, "now the gateway can close." The conqueror ignored, for the moment, Jane's huddled form on the floor, and the crying baby beside it. She spared her own work but a glance, the handwritten Book of Incantations given to the son she'd lost in battle, before tossing it contemptuously into the fire. She watched it burn, smiling.

She turned her attention then to the others in the room. Jane hadn't moved, for she was still too afraid to even open her eyes. Renee's hand slapped her. "Up, girl!" the mistress commanded. "I still have use for you." The sorcerer's ring ensured her slave's obedience. "I want them all here," she instructed her servant. "You are to send word to the Masters estate: when the doctor and Maggie get home from work today, I want them to come here, and bring the Kolinsky woman with them. I don't care how late it is, but I want them here tonight."

"Yes, mistress. What about the boy, Ben?"

"He doesn't matter; he's not a sorcerer. I only care about those who have the power."

"What shall I tell them when they ask me why you summon them?"

"Tell them..." Evil sparkled behind the green eyes. "Tell them the master is about to settle a score."

"Yes, mistress," Jane said again. "And what about the sorcerers here, Mr. and Mrs. Blake, and Mr. Stutler?"

"Let them find out when the others arrive. Meanwhile, I have a baby to feed." She retrieved the infant from the floor and sat with him in the nearest chair. "Shh," she soothed, "Mama's here. You're _my_ son now, to replace the one I lost. Mama's going to teach you everything you need to know." With that, she allowed the baby to feed.

* * *

"Chandra, what's this about an emergency at the castle?" Alvar was all business as he stepped inside the manor's front door, his assistant and her son in tow.

"Jane wouldn't specify," the elder sorcerer told him. "All she said was that Renee needed our help as soon as possible; something about Morgana taking over tonight."

"Morgana? That's impossible! She's still trapped in the Grimhold!"

"I don't know, Alvar. I'm just repeating what she said."

"Did you talk to anyone else to confirm it? I know Dave and Balthazar have been busy working on their project in the training room, but Veronica, at least, should be available, if not Renee herself."

"I tried to call back, but the phone line was dead. I did call Horvath in London after that, so I know it's not a problem at our end. He'll be here as soon as he can, but that won't be until very late tonight, or maybe even tomorrow morning. I don't think we can wait that long. I didn't want to take a carriage over to the castle myself, though, since you were about to leave work for the day anyway. I thought we should go together."

The doctor concurred. "Right, right. Maybe it's nothing serious, just something minor blown out of proportion, but we shouldn't take that chance. All right, Chandra. Let's try calling one more time; and if there's still no answer, we'll get you into your traveling cloth."

When he emerged from Chandra's room, a rolled-up tapestry under one arm, he headed without pause for the door. His expression was grim.

"Wait." Maggie planted herself squarely in his way. "I'm coming, too."

"Oh no you're not," he countered. "If there really is a problem with Morgana, they're going to need magic to fight her. You would only be in the way."

"Renee is my sister," she reminded him. "Jane said she needed our help. I'm going to help. If you don't take me with you, I'll just come by myself in the other car. It's your choice, doctor."

He glared, irritation battling with a grudging admiration. Finally, he consented. "Fine, we'll bring you, but you'd better not put yourself at unnecessary risk. We can't afford to lose you." He glanced aside at Ben, who stood bravely beside his mother despite the fear plainly showing on his face. "_You_, young man," he ordered, "are staying here, period." He didn't even bother to ask for the mother's agreement. "Mrs. Taylor will look after you until we get back." _If_ we get back, he didn't add. He had a bad feeling about this.

* * *

"You know, it's days like this when I'd give just about anything for a cell phone," Dave grumbled when his neighbors arrived in the Oxford. "Not that we get a lot of phone calls anyway, which is why we didn't notice right away that something was wrong. Turns out, the whole line was fried, from where it was hooked up into the wall to the closest pole outside. We just finished fixing it before you pulled in."

Alvar's relief, initially intense, faded quickly into suspicion. "Sabotage?" he guessed.

"Absolutely. It had to be a sorcerer's doing."

"Do you know who?" The doctor opened the door for his passenger, then reached into the seat behind her to retrieve the tapestry. A wave sent it to the castle wall, where it stuck and then unrolled itself like a pull-down window blind. Chandra stepped from her cozy mirrored bedroom into the lantern-lit courtyard of Dragon Castle.

Dave grimaced. "It was Renee," he answered, "or whatever's got control of her now. She's been waiting for us up in the training room. We don't know what she wants yet, but we sent Agatha to your place with the servants for the night, just to be safe."

The Blakes met their fellow sorcerers at the foot of the staircase leading up to the room in question. "Master, Chandra, I'm glad you came," said Balthazar, clasping his visitors' hands in welcome. He frowned at Maggie. "And I wish you hadn't," he added.

She was about to rebuke him as she had his master before, but he shook his head and went on. "She claims to be Morgana. She's either gone insane, or she's been possessed by someone more powerful. Either way, we have to stop her. I didn't want you to have to witness it when we do."

Maggie swallowed uneasily. "Is it...is she really that bad?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Will you at least stay downstairs?"

The widow's determination was back. "Nae. I've seen a lot in my line o' work. I can handle this, too, however personal it may be."

Chandra posed the next logical question. "Why haven't you stopped her already? Surely, three powerful sorcerers like yourselves can take on one apprentice, even if she is a Prime."

Balthazar's face twisted in what should have been a smile. "Come and see." He led them all upstairs.

* * *

She was seated at the control station with a baby on her lap. The clear round wall around the Merlin Circle was larger now, so that it encompassed the station as well. Blue lightning flashed upon that wall, a furious storm coming from the battery now free from its cylinder. The smell of ozone hung heavy in the air, the pressure dropped low enough to make the room's new arrivals rub their temples in pain. The girl and her child seemed unaffected.

"Welcome," said Renee's voice calmly."I see you've brought reinforcements." She grinned. "Do you think they'll make any difference?"

Balthazar gritted his teeth. "We'll see," he growled. To the visitors, he explained, "We can't get through the wall to shut down the battery directly, and you can see she's got the control station protected inside there, too. Even if we could reach the station, I doubt that it would do any good. She hasn't used it at all. This power is all coming from her."

"But why?" Maggie pleaded. "Why do this at all? Is it just a demonstration to impress us?"

Inside the circle, the girl who had been Renee heard. "Not just to impress you," she boasted. "I plan to use this weapon on a larger scale. You see, I too can control electricity, just as this vaunted Prime Merlinian can. My host has learned much from her study of this project, and I know everything she does."

"Your host..." Veronica had gone pale. "Who are you?"

"I told you, I'm Morgana."

"You can't be. I would know."

An unexpected tug at her elbow drew her attention down. "Jane, what are you doing here?" Veronica chided. "How did you get into this room? Why aren't you with the other servants at the manor?"

Frightened eyes darted between the two dark-haired sorcerers. "She made me come," the girl asserted. "I tried to leave, but she just won't let me go."

A laugh came from the midst of the crackling lightning. "That's right," said the creature within. "I let the human in. She's the only witness, so she's going to share your fate. Go ahead, whelp, tell them."

"It's the book, mum. She called it her gateway. She was in the book until I touched it, and then..." She shuddered.

Maggie gaped. "That cursed Book of Incantations," she realized aloud. "I _knew_ that thing was evil. And now it's got my sister." She turned toward her sibling in the circle. "Oh, Renee, I'm so sorry. I should have burned that wicked thing years ago, but I let ye keep it instead. Now it's too late." She stopped and dabbed the water from her eyes.

Veronica had her own epiphany. "Agatha knew," she related to the others. "That's why she didn't want to be anywhere near Jane for the last two weeks." She shook her head. "But still...how can this be?"

"Enough!" Renee stood–or was made to stand–and laid her living burden on the seat behind her. "It doesn't matter whether you believe me. Morgana has a new body, one with the power of her inheritance, and now I have another son to carry on my empire. None of you will live to see that empire, I'm afraid. My enemies die tonight."

* * *

The bolts came fast and hard, through the clear walls of the battery enclosure as if they met no obstruction at all. Worse, the barometric pressure kept on falling, until Balthazar and his allies could barely see through the pain and the blinding blue light. They were holding off the strikes, for the moment, but that moment was fading fast. Counterstrikes were beyond even the reach of conception.

Balthazar and Veronica were shielding not just themselves, but the civilian Jane as well. Alvar had taken Maggie under his protection, which was wearing him down even faster. That left Dave with Chandra, the two most responsible for the progress that had already been made on their project. Now that project was being used against them.

Dave had an idea. "Chandra!" he shouted, though they were mere inches apart, for the crackle around them was a roar. "She's using electricity!"

"I know that!" his partner shouted back. "So what?"

"So, electricity doesn't work on you! Stick your hand out from behind the shield, and find out for yourself!"

"Are you crazy?! I've never dealt with this much current at one time. I'll lose my hand!"

"Have you got a better idea?"

He couldn't see her face clearly then, but that was probably a good thing. Timidly, she stretched one hand toward the edge of the shield they both maintained; flinching, inching out past the side...

She gained confidence as her exposure increased. The bolts flashed all around her, but within her personal sphere of negative energy, they died before they could reach her. She was indeed immune. She stood unprotected in the storm, but still she stood untouched.

Chandra ducked back under the cover of the shield she'd shared with Dave. "You were right!" she admitted ecstatically. Then she winced; lightning might not hurt her, but the pressure was another matter entirely. "What now?" she asked more soberly.

"We need you to use your chair. It amplifies your field, but I don't know if it will be enough."

"Let's find out," she volunteered. She led the way, more by memory than by sight, as they still couldn't see much through the tempest. They discovered Alvar and Maggie as they worked their way across the room, huddled together on the floor with the doctor's shield flickering as he lost the strength to keep it. The four of them continued until they found the electric chair.

Even through the stormy air, grown hot now with the unceasing barrage of bolts, they saw the silver glow. It would be deadly to the touch...of all but one. She settled herself into the chair with the ease of one who'd been there a hundred times before. The helmet lowered.

Now the battle began. At first, only the chair and its occupant had reprieve. Then, as Chandra cleared the distractions from her mind and focused more deeply on her task, the field expanded. Soon, the entire quartet was sheltered; then, here and there, other flashes began to fizzle out. The Blakes and their charge scurried to join their friends. Also, the room began to cool.

* * *

Inside the circle, the storm's commander saw what was happening. Her eyes narrowed in rage, but not an unreasoning rage. Instead, she eagerly took on this new challenge.

She redoubled the fury of her attack, so that the room outside her wall became a solid mass of blue. She could almost feel the inferno, the low groaning throb that pounded inside the heads of those she fought.

A corridor appeared, within it a cable become visible out of the blue, a corridor that ran from control station to the special chair outside. The cable was frosting over, and the corridor was growing.

"Well, well," mused the Morganian to herself, or to the one ensnared. "It seems they've found a way to get past the storm. I guess we'll have to use a different tactic." Abruptly, the sea of blue vanished, leaving only the battery still aglow. The woman stood smiling at the ensemble gathered around the chair.

Chandra's effort had taken its toll. Her hands shook now upon the silver armrests, and her breath was the staggering pant of exhaustion. Alvar and Maggie flanked her, renewing her strength as she spent it, and providing extra cover for the human curled up in the space behind the chair. The other three sorcerers had been doing their part as well, creating and reinforcing the corridor that threatened to let them into her haven. She couldn't allow that.

With a bow and a flourish, she snapped the offending cable from its mooring at her station. The frost melted away, and the cable shriveled like a tortured snake as it burned. The spectral corridor collapsed.

"Your shields, and your tricks, saved you this time," she acknowledged. "There's no shield on earth that can save you from your own Forbidden Realm."

The Merlinians outside all had the same thought. "The Rising?" asked Dave of his fellows.

"It can't be," Balthazar responded. "If everything we've heard is true, it can't be. Renee doesn't know the spell, and Morgana's spirit–this part of it, anyway–was sealed inside the book before the spell was even invented. Like it or not, we're about to find out if it's true."

They didn't have long to wait. There was no incantation, no calling upon the spirits of the dead as both of the Blakes clearly remembered from that night at Bowling Green. In fact, the sorcerer girl didn't even enter the central domain herself. Instead, she motioned something else to take that place.

The battery shook. It was still active, and in fact was growing more so. Currents raced up the coil; stronger, faster, even as they watched. They discharged from the top, though not randomly. Their master directed the bolts away from the scene before her. She watched her audience through a clear wall unadorned by even the energy she created, watched their horrified faces as the battery settled in the strongest realm of all. Oh yes, she planned to enjoy watching them die.

* * *

It started as an ache in every tooth. From there, the pain spread to his bones, every last one of them. His eyes hurt, his head hurt, and now he felt a sharp pang in his chest. _No_, he cried inside, _not again_. He had felt like this before, when he took the destroyer from inside the one he loved. Morgana had no use for him, as she had for Veronica; she sought only to hurt him enough to escape his body. In that, she'd succeeded.

Now the destroyer stood before them all, smiling from the body she'd claimed as her own. Hurting him was no longer enough, she meant to kill him and all who fought by his side. He felt nauseous.

Dave was there, shaking him, trying to tell him something. He strove to listen past the veil of cotton in his ears.

"Low...frequency...noise," his apprentice managed through clenched jaws. "She's right. We have...no defense."

No, that couldn't be right. There was always a defense. He'd gone through fifteen centuries of battles and mob violence and assassination attempts, and he'd always found a way to survive, even if that way did often rely on the mercy of someone else. _We have to find a way to break through the wall. Make it brittle, brittle as glass. Brittle..._

"Chandra," he gasped. "Amplify cold..."

They worked together, the six beleaguered sorcerers, as quickly as they could, with Chandra as the focal point of their efforts. Between them and the girl who stood bemused inside her shelter, the clear wall became hoary, then thick with a layer of frost. The frost expanded.

"What do you think you're doing?" taunted the attacker. "You think I can't kill you if I can't see you? Fools!" She sent a wave of heat toward the clouded area. It cleared, but didn't melt off. They watched each other through a growing blanket of ice.

The room grew ever colder, but it was only a reflection of the wall's declining temperature. Balthazar started to see things, images past the dark blots in his eyes that swam and pooled and fell as blood down his cheeks.

The images increased. Vaguely, he thought he could make out the girl inside, watching those same images with a fascination that superceded even her desire to kill. He caught impressions of Merlin as a younger man, of a redhead screaming in pain as she gave birth to her firstborn son, of a woman's hand writing the pages of a book, and more...

He was losing this fight. They were all losing. His lungs resisted every breath,

He thought he'd imagined the sound. "Balthazar!" his wife shouted in his ear. "It cracked!" Then she, too, resumed her struggle for air.

This was their chance, their only chance. He felt for the strongest hand in the group. It was the hand of the youngest.

"Dave,"he croaked. "Now." His apprentice nodded his understanding.

Together, they sent a torrent of fire toward the wall at its weakest point. The crack became a web, then began to slowly disintegrate. Dave gave the one inside no time to repair the breach; with a helpful push from Balthazar, he hurled his body through.

He heard a woman's scream, but he, too, had suffered damage to his eyes and other organs. His target was the battery. He aimed a hand at the source of the blue light, trying to shut it down, only to meet resistance from one who was his match. True, her resistance was weakening, now that she was exposed to the same deadly frequencies as the rest of them, but she was still stronger than he. He flung himself upon the coils. It was the only option left.

The light went out. Dave lay sprawled upon the downed and dead battery, as surprised as he was thankful to still be alive. He clambered off and shoved the thing aside, out to the perimeter of the circle.

"Dave?" The voice was Renee's, not Morgana's. Renee's husband staggered back toward the sound of her voice, blindly, stopping when he saw her silhouette before him. He reached a trembling hand toward her.

Her voice changed. "You're too late," she informed him coldly. "Look outside the circle, if you can. They're all dead."

"No." He couldn't, wouldn't believe that. "You lie, Morgana."

She laughed at him. "And you, Prime Merlinian, are going to be dead soon, too. You've sustained too much damage. I couldn't heal you if I wanted to, not in this body."

"Renee," he begged, "help me. Help yourself. Fight her. I know you can do it."

"Oh, you are a fool," Morgana mocked. "I am the master, not that foolish girl. She's mine now, forever, and so is the child she bore."

"Isaac? Let him go. He's not yours."

The silhouette vanished. Dave swayed in place, dizzy, sick, and feeling both strength and consciousness waning. He needed to rescue his son before...

She was back. "You dispute my claim?" she challenged. A small dark form emitted a pitiful wail.

"Renee..."

"He's mine, I tell you!"

Dave persisted. "Please, Renee. I know it was you who turned off the battery. You can beat her, Renee. You're a Prime. You're a better person than your ancestor ever was. Please, for our son's sake..." His knees buckled then, and he fell where he was. It was all he could do to sit up.

He didn't know how long it had been before the woman in front of him stirred again. He had missed the contortions, the desperate battle in the lonely recesses of her mind. All he knew was that she suddenly bent down before him, pressing her precious bundle into his weakening arms, and pleading her most urgent plea: "Take him, Dave. Don' let her have him. Kill me if ye must, but don' let her take him again. She'll make him jus' like her." His wife backed away as if she knew her time was fleeting.

Then she was gone, and he knew somehow that she would never emerge again. Morgana reigned for good. He felt a pang that had nothing to do with the body he felt dying around him. _I'll avenge you , Renee_, he promised. _If it's the last thing I do in this world, I'll see that Morgana pays._

In fact, it very well might be the last thing he would do in this world. The thing that had been Renee didn't have to do anything now but wait, and that wait wouldn't be long. He bent forward, head bowed over the babe in his arms, and there he remained unmoving. One arm fell limp to the floor.

Morgana stood triumphant, alone among the fallen. She laughed again. "I won, old man," she declared to her ancient master Merlin. "Your followers are dead, and so is your only heir. I claim the boy Isaac as my own. You see, I was the strongest after all."

She stooped in front of the boy's father, still bowed in a futile attempt to protect his only son. She pushed back on his shoulder to reach for the prize below..

...and pulled back in shock when Dave's free hand grabbed her tightly by the wrist. Sightless eyes stared into her face; bleeding lips spoke one last time.

"You lose, Morgana. Isaac will never be yours." He let her go, but now she was as trapped as her host. A bubble of white enveloped her, condensing to a cocoon that pulsed as it shrank still further and muffled the screams inside. The thing fell writhing to the floor. In a matter of moments, it lay still and small on the stone of the Merlin Circle, still and small and round and milky white. A perfect pearl was all that remained of Renee and her master Morgana.

Dave saw none of it. His last bit of strength was expended as he let the destroyer go. The servants would be back in the morning, he knew. They would find him and his friends, and the only survivor Isaac. He fell into darkness atop the Forbidden Realm.


	17. A woman's touch

One by one they fell, and Maggie was no exception. She saw a flash of fire directed toward the wall, and then one of their number was gone...Dave, she thought. At that point, her senses failed her, and so did her legs. She collapsed amid the bodies of her friends.

Peace...darkness...pain that never ended. Why was it taking so long for her to die? For death was her end, she knew. _My God, why have ye not called me home? What have I left undone?_

The answer hit her like an avalanche. _Of course. I'm a healer. Ye're giving me the chance to atone. Ah, Renee..._ She wept inside for her lost sibling, the one she hadn't saved from the evil that swept her away. Well, she could save someone else, at least. She had enough life left for that. She reached out, groping for the nearest contact in the dark.

It was a sorcerer ring she encountered, on a hand that belonged to someone she held most dear. _Doctor_, she sent without words. _I'm glad it's you. You're the one I can heal before I die._

To her amazement, her mind was filled with his voice in return. _Don't be a hero, Maggie. Heal yourself first. You can't help the rest of us if you're dead._

The concept was shocking in its simplicity. Heal herself first? But, that was so...selfish, she'd always thought. The doctor was right, though. She would have laughed if she could.

Alvar was thus the second to regain awareness of the world. Together, he and Maggie poured their strength and healing power into the others as they found them: first the human girl Jane, then Veronica and her husband Balthazar. Maggie looked up from the man's body stirring beneath her hand, to the gaping hole in the wall they'd finally broken. "Dave," she told her partner. She stepped quickly through the opening and laid both hands on the Prime Merlinian.

It was a battle, but in the end they won. Dave's eyes opened as if from a long, troubled dream. "Isaac?" he whispered.

The healer smiled. "He's fine," she assured the baby's father. "Here, sit up so you can hold him." When that was accomplished, she rose and left him. 'I have more work to do," she explained.

Her work outside the circle, however, was finished. She approached the chair built for one person and for one purpose. Around it, her friends were gathered, Alvar at the head with the helmet already lifted. He turned sad eyes upon the healer. "We've lost Chandra," he announced. "She amplified the power we needed enough for us to get through, but she took the brunt of the punishment, as well." He shook his head. "By the time the battery was shut down, it was already too late." He bowed his head with the others.

She laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder, and her cheek on top of that. "I'm sorry," she told him sincerely. "She was a friend to me, too. We'll miss her."

One task only remained. Maggie turned back to the broken round wall and steeled herself for the worst. What had become of Renee?

There was no body, and no evidence that anyone had left the training room. Dave, still sitting where Maggie had left him, knew no more than she did. "I did notice the cue ball there, though," he said, pointing with his chin. "Could that give us a clue?"

She scooped it up and held it for examination. "This is no cue ball," she concluded. "It's a pearl, a very big pearl, and it feels warmer than any pearl should. I wonder what it could mean?"

"Bring it here." He stretched out his hand, and she placed in it the treasure. Yes, it was quite warm. The scientific part of his mind thought, _newly bonded under severe pressure. It hasn't had time to cool yet._ The emotional part thought, _any woman would kill to have something like this. It's got to be worth a fortune._ Then he considered the woman who stood there before him, and those outside who had given so much to support him, and he felt ashamed of himself. _Well, okay, not _any_ woman, _he corrected. _Just the ones with morals like Morgana's._

That, of course, reminded him of the one who'd fought Morgana and won, if only for a few moments. Renee... Involuntarily, his hand clasped the white orb tighter, and his throat was as tight as his grip. _Where are you, girl?_ He stared at the object in his hand.

She was there. He didn't know how he knew it, but he knew. Before his eyes, beyond the smooth surface of the pearl, he saw her face behind, as it were, a veil. No fear was there any more, nor any bitterness or sorrow. She was at peace now, wherever she was. Whether she saw him through the barrier between them, he couldn't know, but it seemed to him that she did. The vision faded; but before it was gone completely, she bade him farewell with a smile. He closed his eyes then, seeing her still in his mind, and knowing that forever he would remember: a woman taken from the world too soon, brunette curls slipping jauntily through his fingers, and eyes of summer forest green.

* * *

Chandra Kolinsky was buried in a place of honor, in the middle of the slope behind the castle overlooking the lake. "I buried Merlin here," Balthazar solemnly intoned, "over a thousand years ago. If any part of his spirit still lingers, I'm sure these two will have quite a few stories to tell each other." He gave his companion a smile of reminiscence in an effort to cheer them both.

Horvath added, "Probably very few that I'd care to hear if I'm involved in them."

"Oh come on, Horvath, you do have _some_ redeeming qualities. I've never known you to sell yourself short before."

The older apprentice gave a noncommital shrug. "Whatever. It would have been nice, though, if we'd had a chance to say 'goodbye'."

"Yeah." Balthazar couldn't disagree. "And now, with Renee gone too, you're running out of people on whom you can practice that superior attitude of yours."

"I still have you, Balthazar. Over a thousand years of matching wits, and you still haven't conceded that I'm better."

"That's because you're not." The two former enemies exchanged grins. "Come on, partner, let's go back inside. We'll leave the old masters to their stories." Balthazar gave a nod of respect to Chandra's grave, and Merlin's old apprentices started uphill toward the castle.

* * *

The project in the training room was put on hold indefinitely; not just because one of its researchers was no more, not just because those remaining needed time to heal, and not just because their laboratory had been all but destroyed. No, one thing further sealed its fate.

Dave's life had changed dramatically since the day he'd first learned who he was. Then, all he'd wanted, as he'd pointed out to Balthazar, was to be normal. He became more than that instead. Much had been demanded of him–too much, he was certain on several occasions–but he met those demands and surpassed them once he accepted the challenge. In the years between that day and this, his magic had become a part of him as natural as any of his senses. He couldn't imagine having to go back to living a "normal" life again.

That was why it came as such a blow to discover that his magic was gone. "I can't believe this," he muttered when, one after another, his attempts at even the simplest sorcerer tricks produced nothing. He couldn't even light a match with magic anymore. "What happened, Balthazar?" he asked plaintively of his master. "Why can't I do things anymore? This is just temporary, right? My powers will come back, right? Please tell me I'll get them back."

Without looking at him, Balthazar posed a question of his own. "Where were you when Morgana disappeared? Where _exactly_?"

"I...um, I was in the Merlin Circle. I couldn't see."

"After Maggie healed you, then you could see. Think, Dave. Remember. I can help you if you want me to."

Dave struggled to remember on his own. He trusted his friend and master completely, but a mind touch from anybody was unpleasant. He always felt as if his thoughts were being invaded. He'd been away from the wall, out in the open, exposed, vulnerable...

He knew. "The Forbidden Realm. That's where I was, Balthazar, the Forbidden Realm."

"Mm-hmm. It holds the power of life and death. Life's strongest spell is The Rising. Absolute Death...is dark magic, which means the user pays a price."

"You're not saying...?"

"You used the power of that domain to kill someone, Dave. It doesn't matter who or why. The price: you lose your sorcerer ability, permanently. This is the first I've heard that anyone has actually used that spell. The price is too high."

"But I didn't...I mean, I didn't even know what I was doing. I sure wasn't trying to do any spell. I just wanted to make Morgana pay."

"All it takes is a strong enough desire. And Morgana did pay. Agatha's confirmed that she's no longer present. That pearl you found is only Renee. Morgana trapped herself in Renee's body when she burned her only way out. Now, with that body destroyed, the evil spirit that controlled it has nowhere to go. If it's not dissipated into nothingness, and I doubt that it is, it's at least banished into the nether world. Renee is free of it forever, and so are we."

"So it's a good thing that I did what I did. Right? How can that be dark magic?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

Dave sat down heavily on the nearest chair. No, Balthazar didn't need to answer; his apprentice already knew. Magic was an impersonal tool. It didn't care how or why it was used. "Dark magic" was only called that because it exacted a price on its user, plus corruption of the soul if practiced long enough, not because those who used it generally had evil intentions. "It's not fair," he complained. "It seems like every time I do the right thing, I get punished for it."

His master's voice was soft and encouraging. "Don't give up, Dave," he said. "You haven't lost everything. You can still see magic, even if you can't perform it anymore. That's how Renee was able to reach you that one last time. Plus, you still have your natural ability. The physics nerd hasn't gone away."

That elicited the smile it was meant to evoke. "Yeah, once a geek, always a geek, I suppose."

Something else occurred to him. "Balthazar..."

"Yes, Dave?"

"Am I still the Prime Merlinian?"

"No, you're not. You've passed on that inheritance to your son."

* * *

One month after that fateful Thursday night, six adults and three children of various ages gathered for their habitual weekend dinner at Dragon Castle. This was Horvath's first weekend at home since the beginning of the month, and he was enjoying the rest more than he cared to admit.

"So, um...how's Becky doing?" Dave asked. He wasn't sure he really wanted to know, but he couldn't help asking anyway. She hadn't spoken to anyone but Horvath since she moved away to London.

"She's doing well," her business partner replied. "She's been keeping busy with her work. Oh, and she burned that dress she wore to Agatha's party. She didn't say why, and I didn't ask."

"Oh." Dave didn't know how to take that bit of news. Was she burning bridges, so to speak, with him, or was it her way of withdrawing from the social life of London? "Well, um, tell her I asked about her, okay?"

"If you insist."

"Does she know about...everything?"

"I've told her, yes. She sends her condolences about your wife. I'm sure if she had anything else to say , she'd tell you herself. She knows I'm not a bleedin' messenger boy."

Ouch. _Okay, Horvath, I get the point._ He shut up about Becky.

No one else seemed inclined to contribute to the conversation; not yet, at any rate. Balthazar and Veronica both seemed a little edgy, but it was only the tension of anticipation. They had something to say, but not right now. Strangely, Alvar and Maggie had that same air. Dave shook his head; he was missing something, he was sure, but what?

Horvath took it upon himself to speak up. "I haven't had the chance to visit your lab since I was home last. What have you decided to do there? I hope you haven't let all that time and research go to waste." It wasn't a training room anymore, as there were no sorcerers who needed it for that, not now. Agatha wouldn't be ready for years, and Isaac had even longer to wait.

Dave smiled for the first time that evening. "We've discovered something new," he proudly declared. "Those pictures on the barrier wall-you weren't there at the time, Horvath, but the rest of us saw them-they gave me an idea. Those weren't just random scenes. They were Morgana's memories. They were her past."

Horvath waited, one eyebrow cocked to show he was interested. Dave took that as permission to continue.

"She was using the battery–an electromagnetic battery–to keep a charge running through the wall. Then we started lowering the wall's temperature to make it brittle enough to break. She melted the bottom of the ice that was forming on the outside, which increased the wall's conductivity. Well, the colder a surface is, the less resistance it has to the passage of electricity through it. I'm talking _way_ cold here, as in maybe a hundred K or lower. With the right materials, at the right temperature and so forth, what we've got is a superconductor on our hands."

To his great disappointment, his audience failed to be impressed. "What exactly does this have to do with anything useful?" Horvath inquired.

Dave blinked. "It's...it's the key. I think."

"To what?"

"To time travel! Or virtual time travel, anyway. We saw a glimpse of history already. Once I get everything I need–I might have to ask you folks who can still do magic to make certain materials for me–and I can build an amplifier station to get enough power, it's possible that any of us can be inside the chamber and see our memories on display."

Horvath snorted. "And why would I want to see my memories on display? How does that serve any purpose?"

"That's only the start, Horvath." Now Dave was becoming annoyed. "With practice, I'm sure the user can choose what to show or not. And why limit this to just personal memories? Why not open up the boundaries, maybe start with an artifact from the time we want to revisit? Remember how you found the Grimhold in Chinatown after you'd been in contact with it before?"

"So..." Horvath speculated, "if I were to touch, say, a pillar on the Parthenon, I would be able to come back here and see it being built?"

"Exactly. Now you're beginning to get it."

"Interesting..."

"Of course, this is all just speculation at this point. It's going to take years to actually get something like that set up, once I figure out if it's even possible."

"Well, Dave," said Balthazar cheerfully, "if anyone can figure it out, it's you. See, you don't need magic for everything, not as long as you keep that brain of yours working."

"Er, thanks," the ex-sorcerer returned. "You seem awfully chipper tonight, Balthazar; you and Veronica both. Is there something we should know?"

The couple grinned like a pair of guilty cats. "Actually, yes," said the master of the castle. "Agatha's not going to be an only child much longer."

And that wasn't the end of the night's glad tidings.

Alvar waited until the dishes had been cleared from the table, leaving only the drinks behind. He rose with his glass in hand. "May I add my congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Blake. I look forward to having another grandchild to spoil." When the toast and the laughter were over, he went on. "I have good news of my own." He put down his glass, and took instead the hand of the woman beside him. "Maggie and I have finally admitted what I'm sure the rest of you suspected all along. We both lost our first spouses, and we thought we'd never find another who could fill that emptiness in our hearts. We were wrong. In each other, we've found the one who can make the other whole. We plan to be married next month."

* * *

"Are you sure about this, Dave?" Balthazar searched his friend's face as if hoping for denial.

It was quiet in the lab now, after a productive work day that had nonetheless been concluded early. Dave still sat at the rebuilt control station, notebook in hand as he jotted down the latest test results. When he looked up at last, it was to see his research partner standing before him, sad but somehow not surprised. He nodded. "Yeah," he quietly confirmed. "I'm sure."

"You don't have to leave," Balthazar told him. "This is your home as much as it is ours. That's why it's called 'Dragon Castle' instead of 'Blake Castle.' You're family: you belong here, too."

"Not anymore," replied the younger man, a rueful smile playing on his face. "I've lost my magic, so I can't be your apprentice anymore."

"That's not the point," his former master began, but Dave held up a hand to forestall further protest.

"I know," he answered. "It's just one factor in my decision. It made me realize that I need to start taking control of my own life. I'm a father now, Balthazar. If I'm gonna be a good father to my son, I have to be someone he can respect. I have to 'leave the nest' here, so I can start another one of my own. We all have to grow up sometime, you know?"

Balthazar closed his eyes for a long moment, then turned and wandered to the table that held the supplies. His shoulders remained slumped, his head bowed as he absently picked up a flask and stared into its depths. "I knew this day would come," he admitted without looking up. "I just didn't expect it to be this soon. When Renee moved in, and then she had Isaac, I thought we'd be a multi-generation household. I thought we'd have years together."

"Yeah, so did I," Dave agreed morosely. He'd pictured years of training, for himself and Renee and then their son, before even thinking about leaving. Now there was only Isaac, who wouldn't be ready for years. Dave wouldn't be able to train his own son, as he'd planned, at least not as a sorcerer master.

"Well," he continued in an effort to lift the gloom, "it's not like I plan to go halfway round the world or anything. I can't go too far and still be able to work with you on our project. Besides, I'll need you to teach Isaac when he's old enough to get a ring. You will teach him, won't you?" Dave was confident that Balthazar would be willing, and the older man didn't disappoint.

"Of course I will. I'd be insulted if you asked anybody else." Balthazar spared him the ghost of a smile before returning to his examination of the flask.

"Great." He stood. "So, um, I guess I should start looking for a place. I want to keep it within commuting distance, for obvious reasons. Could you guys keep an eye out for anything that comes up? I'll ask the Masters gang to be on the lookout, too."

"Sure, Dave." Now the master faced him directly. "What about Isaac?" he asked. "How do you intend to take care of him all by yourself? Did you want Jane or another nanny to stay with you? And what are you going to do for money? You don't have a paying job."

"Well, um, actually..." Dave dropped his gaze to the floor. He scratched behind one ear to give himself an extra moment, but then looked up again. "Could you, maybe, loan me some cash? I'll pay it back, I swear. I figure I can make some solid investments, knowing what companies will still be around in the future. I was hoping you could give me some financial advice, too."

"As much as you need," answered both requests. "And your son?"

"Um, yeah, Isaac." Dave seemed less certain of this. "I guess Jane is okay, for now, if she still wants the job. What I really want, though..." He swallowed.

Balthazar waited expectantly, as if he already knew.

Dave confirmed his suspicion. "I'm gonna try one last time," he declared. "If she still says 'no,' then that's that. It's over. But, I can't let her go without doing everything I can to get her back. I just can't. She means too much to me."

A single nod told him that his elder understood. Balthazar lifted one hand; from somewhere, a familiar object sailed into his grasp. The sorcerer held his modified fedora by its brim, looking over it with practiced eye, tracing its designs with practiced fingers. He glanced up then and tossed the hat to Dave. "You'll need it," he explained. "London weather got its reputation for a reason."

Dave stood blinking at the object in his hands. This was no mere trinket he held, but an unmistakable reminder of the man to whom it belonged, as much a part of him as the green diamond sorcerer ring he wore.

"It's yours now," came the soft voice of his master. "Consider it a housewarming gift in advance, or maybe a good luck charm. Go ahead, put it on."

He did, and it felt right, as if it had always belonged there. "Thanks," seemed just too inadequate. He closed his eyes and fought to keep the tightness in his throat from choking off the words he couldn't find. At length, he was able to meet the gaze of the one who'd changed his life forever. "You know all those times I told you to go away and leave me alone?" he reminded the other.

Balthazar bowed his head briefly. "Yeah," he acknowledged.

"Thanks for not listening to me." Their eyes met and held, and a slow smile spread on both faces. Dave's apprenticeship was over, but a deeper bond of friendship took its place, one that would only strengthen over time. No magic was stronger than that.

* * *

He followed her home, to the townhouse she shared with her partner, from the studio in London. It was a typical dreary day, and he found himself missing the hooded jacket he used to wear in New York. Well, at least he had the fedora.

When she answered his knock upon her door, her face went from disbelief to anger to cool cordiality. "Dave," she acknowledged. "Horvath promised he wouldn't tell you our home address."

He admitted what he'd done; which, given their history, didn't surprise her. She sighed and stepped back from the door. "Well, you're here now," she conceded. "You may as well come in."

"Thanks, Becky." He accepted the implied invitation. She stood with her arms crossed a good ten feet away from him as he doffed his old new hat. They were alone in a spacious parlor; she with her face a stoic mask, he visibly nervous in the middle of the room.

"What are you doing here, Dave?" she asked, quite reasonably. "In London, first of all, and at my house in particular? Don't tell me it's to visit Horvath, 'cause we both know he's back at the manor this week."

"I know," her visitor mumbled. "I came to see you."

"Well, I didn't invite you. You can just turn right around and go home."

"Come on, Becky..."

"Look, Dave, it's over. You made your choice, and we both have to live with that. Besides..." She feigned an unconcerned shrug. "I'm tired of being low man on the totem pole, you know? All you sorcerers there pretend that I'm not really an outsider, but you can't hide it from me. I'll never be one of you. I'm always the one who ends up getting the shaft. Here, with other _just_ humans, I fit in, even though I'm an American. You sorcerers can keep your clique. I have a new life, and it's right here in London. Any questions?"

"Yeah. If you want to get away from sorcerers so badly, then how come you live in the same house as one?"

She glared. "Horvath..." she stammered. The question had caught her unprepared. "He's...that's different. It's business."

"But Horvath is the one who's caused you the most trouble, unless you count me. I _saved_ you from him, twice, remember?"

"That was before. He's changed."

"So have I, Becky. I've changed, too."

She didn't move, but somehow she appeared to draw nearer. Perhaps it was merely the softening of her stance, the loosening of her grip upon opposite arms. He'd made a dent in her armor, but his goal was far more than that. _Please, God,_ he prayed_, don't let me screw this up._

She was waiting. He gulped and revealed his big news. "I don't know if Horvath told you already, but I...I'm, uh, moving out."

Becky was genuinely surprised. "Moving out of the castle?" she repeated. "No, Horvath didn't say anything about that. Why are you moving?"

"Well, uh, Veronica's expecting again, and a growing family needs a lot of space..."

"They didn't tell you to leave?!"

"No, no , of course not," he assured her. He was glad to note the outrage on his behalf, however. "They never even brought up the suggestion."

"Then why...?"

"It was my idea. I'm not Balthazar's apprentice anymore, since I lost my magic."

She stared at the floor. "Yeah, I heard about that, you losing all your powers. I'm sorry, Dave. I know that was a big part of your life."

"Not as big as you were...as you still are."

Her answering smile was ironic. "What, did you come here to beg me to come back, now that you're single again? I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Dave. I don't appreciate being taken for granted like that. I'm not some leftover sandwich in the fridge, wrapped up until there's nothing else left to eat."

"No! I didn't mean it that way!" What had he said wrong? Why did she always have to assume the worst of him?

"Then what did you mean?"

"I mean...I mean...well, I do want you back, but..." Her blue eyes grew cold, and he knew this wasn't going to work. "I love you!" he cried in desperation. "I never stopped loving you, even when I was with..."

"Renee," Becky finished for him. "The sorcerer girl. You chose the sorcerer over the human."

"It was only because of the baby. You know that. You said you understood. It had nothing to do with her being a sorcerer girl."

Becky moved then, finally. She moved to a plush upholstered chair and sat, her legs tucked up underneath her. "Sit," she invited, waving to another chair close by her uninvited guest.

"Thank you."

"I do understand," she admitted. "I'm just..well, I guess I'm still bitter about what happened. You tell me you love me, and then a few days later, you go and marry someone else. What am I supposed to feel, Dave? Wouldn't you be bitter, too, if you were in my shoes?"

He scanned the shoes that she'd kicked off when she sat. "I think I'd have sore feet if I were in your shoes. Plus, I'd look really stupid in heels."

She couldn't help it. She laughed. "Yeah, you would," she agreed. "So where are you going to move to? London?"

"No, actually, Alvar found this nice little house for sale in Church Stretton, not too far from his office. I checked it out and decided I liked it. It's not fancy like the castle, or even the estate, but I think it would be perfect for just me...and my family."

"Isaac, you mean? How are you going to take care of him by yourself?"

"I'll manage if I have to. Balthazar offered to hire a nanny for him, but I want to do this myself. He's my son."

"But he's a sorcerer, or will be, and you're not."

"Yeah, I know. He's the new Prime Merlinian."

She said nothing, but he could see her thinking hard. "Dave," she said with growing excitement. "He can be the one to defeat Morgana! Balthazar doesn't have to wait until you show up in the year 2000. If he trains Isaac now, he won't need you later. None of this ever has to happen. We can be back home in New York, in college or wherever, with our friends and computers and everything. We could see our parents again. Wouldn't that be great?"

Dave shook his head with a smile of regret. "I'm sorry, Becky. No can do. First of all, he's only the Prime Merlinian according to us. According to the dragon ring, so Balthazar tells me, he'd count only as a normal sorcerer, if even that. The Morganian half cancels out the other one. He can't train Isaac as the Prime Merlinian without the dragon ring's help. We can use a regular ring, and we'll have to, to train him as a Prime, but only a...ahem, generic Prime. He's not the one to take Morgana down."

"Oh." Her disappointment was painful to see: painful, because all he wanted then was to go to her, to hold her and let her draw comfort from him, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

"Not only that," he felt compelled to add, "but that would mean a major paradox in history. If the ring hadn't chosen me, we wouldn't have created the wormhole that brought us back in time. I never would have met Renee, and Isaac would never be born. So, yeah, it would be great to see friends and everything again, but it just isn't going to happen."

He saw her shattered look, and his heart ached in sympathy. She needed some positive news, but he had little to offer. He offered what he could.

"I've started a journal," he said, apparently changing the subject. "It's kind of a diary, but not really. I'm writing it for my mom, so there's a lot of stuff that reads like letters to her. I'm putting some pictures in it, too, like a scrapbook. Moms love getting pictures of their families."

That impressed her like his scientific prowess never did. "Dave, that's so thoughtful of you! But wait...how is she going to get it? Do you plan to put it in a time capsule or something?"

"Not a bad idea," he allowed, "but I was actually thinking of keeping it in a safe under a company name. On a certain date, whoever owns the safe would see that it gets delivered. I was thinking of the day right after we jumped."

For once, Becky was the one who seemed shy. Almost timidly, she asked, "Would it be all right with you if...?"

"Yeah?"

"Could I do that, too? Maybe keep the journals together, so they'd both be delivered on the same day?"

"Sure, no problem. I plan to keep the safe at my new house. It's...um, a bit of a fixer-upper, I'm afraid: the house, that is, not the safe."

"And you want to keep a baby in that?"

"Hey, it was cheap."

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "Men!" She shifted in her seat; then a look of consternation crossed her face. "Uh, Dave, could you help me up, please? My leg's asleep."

He was across the room in an instant. She locked her hands behind his neck, and he grasped her arms just below the shoulders. He lifted. She leaned, standing against him while flexing her tingling calf.

He smiled just inches from her face. "I'd forgotten how good you feel," he told her.

Her leg was better now, apparently, for she stood upon it easily. She had no excuse now to keep her arms around him, nor he to keep holding her close. They continued anyway; who was there to stop them?

"I still love you, Becky Barnes," he said. "Even if you send me away and tell me you never want to see me again, that's not gonna change. You're forever."

She closed her eyes. He waited , knowing better than to interrupt. This, he knew, would be her final answer.

When she looked at him again, he still wasn't certain of his fate. She spoke then–not exactly the words he longed to hear. "David Stutler, I must be the biggest fool who was ever born. After all the heartache you've put me through, I should throw you out of my house this instant." She shook her head and threw up her hands with a sigh. "I give up. Call me a fool, then, but I'll give you one more chance. Show me this house of yours in Church Stretton. It sounds like it can use a woman's touch."


	18. Going home

Horvath closed the Encantus. "Last page," he noted almost wistfully. "We don't need it anymore, not for learning the history of magic. We can see it for ourselves."

Agatha's grandson fixed him with a curious stare. "Why do you keep it, Master Horvath? With all the advances we've made since you founded the academy, nobody uses books anymore. There are a lot of easier ways to get whatever information we need."

The old man shook his head, his face creased with wrinkles and balding pate hoary with age. "It's not the same," he insisted. "These pages have been with me for almost my entire life. When I touch them, they take me back to those times." He tapped his forehead. "Here, in my mind, it's more real than any sensory illusion." Sadly, he returned his successor's gaze. "You'll never understand, I'm afraid. Still, I suppose it's the price that must be paid for progress." He laid the book aside, on the nightstand next to his bed. "Come, let's take a walk," he said.

They went slowly, for the ancient one could move no faster. From Headmaster Horvath's quarters on the ground floor of the academy, they wandered outside, and the winter's chill gave way before their steps. These had been familiar grounds to Horvath for centuries, more than a millennium: Merlin's castle, replaced by an updated replica, which in turn had been converted to the Paraphysics Research Institute and Magic Academy, known to all as PRIMA.

Behind the huge stone building, a slope still ran gently to the shore of a small, frozen lake. Midway down the slope, an island of summer sat encased in a transparent dome. Horvath led the younger man to the dome. With a touch of his withered hand, it granted them entrance, then closed behind them to keep the winter out.

This was a place of memoriam, a private cemetery to honor the founders of the academy. Horvath read the stones: Chandra Kolinsky's first, then one for Balthazar and Veronica Blake, another for Alvar and Maggie Masters, and finally a dragon-shaped one for Dave and Rebecca Stutler. One stone remained, but it had no inscription as yet. Horvath nodded to indicate it. "That one's for me," he informed his companion.

Joshua shifted uncomfortably. "I know," he confessed. "Why are you showing me this?"

"Because I'll be using it soon." He examined the space within their shelter. "Good, good," he said approvingly. "The spell is still holding. We weren't sure it would last with something other than sorcerers."

Outside, snow covered the ground like a blanket to lull the living to sleep. Here, though, the grass was lush and green, the flowers decorating the stones always fresh and vibrant. Merlin's spell to keep his elites from aging had been applied to the space under the dome, to keep their resting place eternally alive. It was a fitting memorial.

Joshua, depressed by this conversation, said nothing as they made their way back up the hill. He felt an imminence like a weight poised to descend upon his shoulders. Horvath's speech was scaring him.

Even from the short distance they'd walked, the elderly headmaster found himself tired to the point of exhaustion. He sat heavily on his bed, panting slightly to catch his breath. Joshua waited. Finally, the old man spoke to him again.

"Joshua," began the master, "as my chosen successor, you'll be the new headmaster here at the academy when I'm gone. You've been preparing, I trust?"

"Yes, but..."

Horvath waved off further response. "Good. Now listen. I've released the spell from myself."

"You what?!"

"Oh, don't act so shocked, Joshua. You've seen me aging this past month practically right before your eyes. You knew, all right. I've given you this month to make the necessary preparations, but now that the healers are gone and my age has caught up with me again, it's time for you to take the reins of command."

"But I don't want you to leave! I need you here!"

The old sorcerer raised one hand, open in invitation, and his companion fell forward to his knees. Joshua took the offered hand in both of his, though they shook with emotion, and held it tight upon his elder's knee. "Please, godfather..." he begged with head bowed low.

Horvath smiled. "You'll do just fine, Joshua," he assured the other. "You know, it's one of the privileges of being an elite, or a Prime, that we can choose our own time to let go, barring injury or illness, of course. The highest degree a sorcerer can reach is the power to break the bonds of earth forever; not by killing the body, but by leaving it behind. It's the same principle as the Fusion Spell, but without the need for a host. When the sorcerer soul breaks free, it goes to join others that have already gone ahead."

Joshua looked up despite his sorrow, and Horvath could see again the blue eyes of the young man's grandmother Agatha, and of Agatha's father Balthazar. He hoped that trait would continue through many generations to come. "How?" the inheritor asked. Not everything was taught in school, even in academy.

The old man closed his eyes, remembering. "Veronica showed us the way," he said quietly. "She was the one who figured it out. The world had seen rapid changes, not all of them good, and my friends were growing weary of life. Oh, don't get me wrong; they were happy as a couple could be. They just felt that they'd accomplished everything they wanted in their lives, and they were ready to take the next step. They were actually looking forward to it."

"The next step?"

"Yes." Horvath related the scene he'd been privileged to witness. "It was their fiftieth wedding anniversary, but you'd never know it to look at them. With Alvar and Maggie around to keep us in good health, we all looked decades younger than we really were. Not like now..." He gave a tiny, rueful smile, then continued. "We were all there, gathered round...well, except Chandra- she'd been gone for nearly five decades-to wish them well on their way. They lay in each other's arms. The Final Fusion Spell-they cast it simultaneously-took their souls away. We watched them, those two shining souls, rise together. They made themselves visible for us. It was like watching a pair of angels dancing on their way back up to Heaven." He sighed. "It was beautiful, really: sad for us who were left, but beautiful."

"They were both elites, weren't they?" Joshua himself had shown no sign of possessing his ancestors' extraordinary power. His father Maxim, younger brother of Agatha's firstborn daughter Dierdre, was the only sorcerer among his family generation. When Dierdre's own children similarly lacked the gift, it was assumed that Joshua alone would be the one to carry on the sorcerer line. Only when cousin Elizabeth married a man named Craig Stutler and gave the world a son–Dave had been born twenty-seven years ago–did anyone know that such an assumption was wrong. Now Dave was gone, of course, and Joshua was indeed the only inheritor left. He was a sorcerer, else he wouldn't have been designated to be the next headmaster, but no more elites or Primes had appeared since his grandmother Agatha and her husband's cousin Isaac. Horvath was the only one left.

The last elite nodded. "Yes, they were," he acknowledged. "It was their suggestion, even before they saw their first grandchild, that we build this academy after they were gone, provided their children agreed. Ben and Agatha loved the idea, as you've no doubt already guessed."

Joshua didn't need to guess; he knew. The Kirchers had made the title official when they moved to the United States after the death of her parents, with the stipulation that its purpose and enrollment remain private, and that Agatha's godfather Horvath be made its first headmaster. The man had grown very old by that time, but his mind was as sharp as ever. A renewal of Merlin's Age Suspension spell ensured that he would be able to see the school established and suitably staffed. Isaac had cast the spell this time, but gave its subject sole authority to cast it off at the time he deemed appropriate.

Horvath continued his history lesson. "A few years later, the Masters followed the Blakes' example. Alvar wasn't an elite, strictly speaking, but he'd already been 'there' and back with no aging in between, so he was a special case. As Balthazar used to say, he was the first son of The Rising." He laughed to himself. "Funny. Maggie was a Prime, but the only magic she ever let us teach her was Veronica's spell, and her husband was the only 'ordinary' sorcerer who could do it, that spell that was even more difficult than the Fusion Spell on which it was based. They were a special pair, those two."

"And what about the Stutlers? I know Dr. Stutler used to be the Prime Merlinian, but his wife never had magic, did she? Wasn't she always a non-sorcerer?" Since the end of the sorcerer war, the old Merlinian term "civilian" was no longer used for humans. It wasn't necessary.

The old man nodded. "She was," he confirmed. "Dave missed her terribly when she died, but he still had his duties. It's thanks to him that the academy has a working Historical Observation machine and the documentation to make more if needed. He did a lot of research himself in his last years. Science: he loved that almost as much as he did his family. The academy lost a brilliant mind when he joined his wife and master. Of course, Isaac was a brilliant researcher, too, but he was more interested in perfecting his magic. Academically, he never matched his father."

"You're brilliant, too," Joshua averred. "I don't care about academic credentials. And now you're telling me that we're going to lose you, too."

Horvath smiled. "My time is over. When your grandmother died last month, she took the last remnant of my generation with her. There are no more Primes, and no more elites besides me. We were born for the struggles of our time, but that time is past. Now that the school is flourishing and sorcery is being taught in an atmosphere of peace, there's no further need for me to stay. Tonight, Joshua. I'm going home at last, and I've never felt better about anything."

* * *

Balthazar met him at the gate. Horvath stood, a catch in his throat and unexpected tears of joy falling from his eyes. His friend gave him no time to recover. His warm embrace was both enthusiastic and forceful, but it was wholeheartedly returned.

Balthazar pulled back enough to examine the other's face more closely. His smile was dazzling. "Well, old man," he teased, "it's about time you showed up. We're throwing you a homecoming party right now. What took you so long?"

Horvath shook his head, confused. "I thought time didn't exist here," he pointed out. Something wasn't right about this, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He stared past the gate to the mansion on the hilltop just beyond. The land was full of life, lush with grass and flowers, crystal-clear rills bubbling merrily to the side where fruit trees bowed full laden. There was no sign of sun or cloud, only a sky full of light yet not blinding. Music came from the mansion, and the sound of happy laughter.

"It doesn't," Balthazar confirmed. "Not unless we're waiting for something, or someone. Years mean nothing here, only waiting time."

Then it struck the newcomer. "Balthazar," he exclaimed in surprise. "You're not old anymore!"

It was true. Gone were the gray hairs, the wrinkles and slowed movements of age. No, Balthazar was a spry young man again, in the very prime, it seemed, of life. That young man nodded. "Of course," he agreed. "You're not old now, either. Haven't you noticed?" While his earthly elder took stock of his own body and came to that same wonderful conclusion, Balthazar went on. "We've been given new bodies; not totally, so we still recognize each other, but perfected. We're immortal. There's no trace of age or injury now. Even the scars on my back are gone,"

"So we're all...everyone is perfected?" It was still hard to take in.

His friend couldn't stop grinning. "Yep. Veronica's more gorgeous than ever, and wait 'til you get a load of Chandra! She's not your grandmother type anymore."

Horvath tried a step, and found that it was effortless. Delighted, he walked some more with a spring in his step that hadn't been there since his days as a young apprentice. He spun in place, and had no dizziness after. Not a trace of weariness remained in what had been a worn-out body just before this journey. He laughed out loud. "So this is Paradise, is it?" he asked just to hear his own voice grown strong once again. "No wonder nobody wants to leave it." An unwelcome thought came unbidden to his mind. "Balthazar..."

"Yes?"

"Is...is everyone here? Everyone who came ahead of me?"

The man before him studied his face. Carefully, he replied, "Everyone in the family is here, yes: Chandra, Master Alvar and Maggie, Dave and Becky, you and I and Veronica... Was there someone else you had in mind?"

"Um..."

The blue eyes sparkled. "All right, I'll tell you, since you're afraid to ask. No, Merlin isn't here at the mansion, and neither are the kids. They are here in this world, but they live in mansions of their own. They'll come by in a bit, but we wanted to get you settled in first, let you look around. You can visit them anytime you want, and vice versa.

'And before you feel forced to ask another awkward question, Merlin left a message for you: all is forgiven. If you want to hear him tell you himself, you'll just have to pay him a visit."

Horvath let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well, that's a relief," he confessed. "A visit sounds fine, but later, not right now." The last lingering doubt he held had just been nullified.

Balthazar smiled again and held out a welcoming hand. "Come on," he invited. "Let's join the party. It can't really get into full swing until you arrive. It's for you, after all."

This time, Horvath's smile competed with his friend's for sheer brilliance. "I never would have believed that I could ever be this happy."

"Get used to it, my brother. This is only the beginning."

Together, they walked to the mansion on the hill, and the light of love welcomed them in.

* * *

_Author's note_

First of all, the required disclaimer: I own none of the characters introduced in the movie The Sorcerer's Apprentice. I just think they're fascinating enough to deserve more development.

Second, some thanks are in order for contributions to this and the previous stories, even if those contributions weren't intentional. Thanks to:

- SiriusFan13, for allowing me to use her idea of the lab cot in Exiles.

- Kenobigirlliz, for the hand-me-down hat idea, and for my first feedback and encouragement

- Kaytori, for truly constructive criticism

- All the readers, especially those who took the time to leave a review.

- Most of all, my faithful, longsuffering beta reader Erica Dawn, who's much too nice to me.

Third, an acknowledgment of "fan canon" that I chose to include because it seems plausible, or just because I have no reason to reject it:

- Dave's dad was absentee, abusive, or otherwise not exactly an ideal father. That would explain Dave's lack of self-confidence.

- The Blakes' first child is a girl. Well, why not?

- Dave continues to train even after the end of the movie. Now it can proceed at a "normal" pace, since Morgana's threat has been neutralized.

If anyone would like a timeline for the events in this story, or a partial family tree, feel free to send a PM. Thanks again for reading. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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